


Conflict of Interest

by moranth



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moranth/pseuds/moranth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a thin line between duty and servitude;between following orders and making yourself miserable. When a chance at happiness appears, are there lines you don't cross? Kolyat/Haron yes...THAT Haron Slash<br/>Continued in Shrines</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the Pedway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be a brief one-shot, but it quick turned into something else. You can call it cracky if you like, I just call it...interesting.

"Move your ass, Krios," Haron shouted as he leaned against the doorjamb. Babysitting unruly drell wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but an order was an order.

He and the kid were the last ones left in the locker room at the end of the shift, and Haron was ready to get off the clock. He was never in a rush to go home, so he took his time changing from his C-Sec blues into his civilian attire. But even with that extra time, Krios still wasn't ready.

Haron knew drell attire was far from simple with all of those zippers and belts, but taking fifteen minutes to change was really pushing it. They went through this every time it was his turn to supervise Kolyat's community service. The kid was always obstinate and slow moving when it came to following his orders.

The other officers in his rotation said that Krios had never given them any trouble. He, allegedly, did what he was told without issue and rarely talked back. That was nothing like the Kolyat Haron was familiar with, so that meant the trouble must lie with Haron.

Everything that came out of the kid's mouth was snide and rude and he frequently rolled his eyes after Haron addressed him. Haron had no idea what grudge Kolyat could have against him, but he wasn't sure he cared enough to find out. He only saw him a few times a week, at most. He could deal with it; he'd dealt with worse.

"If you don't hurry up, I'm going to lock you in here," Haron bellowed as he checked his chrono. At that moment, Kolyat burst from a row of lockers and bounded up the aisle towards the door. Haron chuckled to himself.

He'd locked the drell in the locker room—completely by accident--once before, leaving him trapped until the next shift began. It had only been for 15-20 minutes, but Haron had heard Krios was positively livid. He’d taken an ugly pleasure in that fact. It served the obnoxious little snot right.

Kolyat scowled as he walked pass Haron, muttering "bastard" under his breath. That little outburst aside, they made it to the squad room in silence, just the way Haron liked it.

"Alright, you're free to go for the weekend," Haron said when they reached the front doors. "Just make sure you're in your room by curfew, and keep your nose clean for the next few days."

"Yeah, whatever," Kolyat grumbled as he stalked off.

Now he was someone else's problem.

Unwilling to go home to his empty apartment, Haron dropped in at his local watering hole. The bartender nodded to him as he headed to his usual seat in the back, well away from the small, early evening crowd. It wasn't long before the human waitress came over with his drink. She smiled as she set his glass on the table, and he caught himself smiling back, mandibles spread wide in a goofy grin.

She was pretty, in the way that only humans and asari could be, and he found himself distracted by her lips when she spoke. Haron had never really paid much notice of humans before, and he couldn't say he was really interested now, but to have someone pay attention to him was nice. It wasn't such a far jump from asari to humans, but he wasn't so sure he was ready to cross that line just yet.

It had been months since Shatira had gone from his life as chaotically as she'd come into it, and he'd done nothing to fill the hole she'd left. He had other things to worry about and more pressing priorities, like every good turian should.

Nursing his beer, Haron recalled the events of the day, double-checking to see if he'd forgotten to file a form, or stow his weapon. Eventually his thoughts strayed to the sour young man who had been in his charge for the day.

Kolyat Krios had started off as just another hard luck case that fed the precinct rumor mill, but since he'd dealt with him first hand, he found himself becoming emotionally invested. Krios wasn't a bad kid, and that he even bothered to show up for his service said a lot. Maybe it would be worth it for Haron not to bust his chops quite so much.

The night wore on; people came, and people left, none staying longer than it took them to get buzzed or make asses of themselves. Neither took very long. By the time Lilah--that was her name; Lily for short-- brought Haron his fourth drink, the bar was as crowded as he'd ever seen it. More bodies in such a tight space meant more chances for someone's foot to get stepped on or for the guy who’d had too many to think someone at the end of the bar had looked at him the wrong way and Haron wanted no part of it. He was off duty and he'd rather not get a bloody nose from breaking up a bar fight.

After putting down a credit chit that covered his tab with enough left over to leave Lilah a generous tip, he shouldered his way towards the exit. He'd almost reached the door when a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I don't give a fuck who you are, who your grandfather was, what war he fought in, or any of that pompous shit. This is your fault; you should have just gotten out of my seat."

-~xXx~-

For the fourth time this month, Kolyat found himself in the bottom of a glass. He didn't usually drink, and he wasn't sure why he drank at all; it ate into what little money he got from C-Sec as a stipend, and he always felt like shit afterwards, but it was a toss-up between which made him feel worse: the drinking or his community service.

The whole thing was a joke.

They told him he was "repaying a debt to society." If they'd let him take out Joram Talid, he really would have helped out society. The man was a bigot who looked down on anyone who wasn't like him; rich and turian, despite his campaign slogan of compassion toward all non-humans.

His father had told him that sparing Talid, no matter how despicable a person he was, had been the right thing to do. Then why did he regret it so much? If he had been quicker, if he hadn't chickened out, Talid would be dead, and he might have gotten out of there before his father and Commander Shepard had found him... But then where would he be?

It couldn't have been worse than where he was now. The Spiral Arms was a rundown dump of a place, and the people who inhabited it weren't much better. The very dregs of society and Kolyat was mixed in right along with them. He didn’t see much difference between this and prison.

Kolyat didn't really want to be in this bar, or even on the Citadel, but there was no way for him to get what he wanted. His mother had passed on, and his father would soon be following behind her, thanks to Kepral's or the ridiculous mission he was on. Kolyat wasn't sure how much of what his father told him he believed, but if Commander Shepard-the Commander Shepard-was involved, maybe his story was true.

Halfway through his sixth drink, Kolyat had to go to the bathroom. He left his jacket on the back of his chair, in front of his unfinished drink, a clear indicator that the seat was taken. He even gave the bartender a look, to ask him to watch his stool, but when he returned to his seat, he still found some smug asshole sitting in it, wrinkling up his jacket. The jerk was trying to chat up the asari sitting beside him, like that was so very hard.

Through a liquor-induced haze, Kolyat forced a calming breath through his nose.

"You're in my seat."

"Just give me a minute, junior. I'm busy here." The turian waved him off, not bothering to look at him.

Kolyat's nails bit into his palms as he struggled against the urge to knock this guy off the stool. It was just a seat. Some guy snaking it to talk to some chick was annoying, but it wasn't worth starting a fight over.

With a sigh, Kolyat tugged his jacket from underneath the turian without much of a hassle. It was when he tried to reach around the turian and grab his drink, then he had a problem.

"What do you think you're doing," the turian shouted as he hit Kolyat's arm, knocking the drink from his hand. Liquid splashed all over the bar, the asari, and Kolyat. Some dribbled off the counter and into the asshole's lap. “Look what you've done!" The turian almost shrieked as he tried to wipe the brightly colored liquid from his light-colored pants that were no doubt ruined, much to Kolyat’s satisfaction. "Do you know how much this suit cost?!"

"That's a shame," Kolyat said as he let his empty cup clatter back onto the countertop. It was hard to be too broken up about another man's pants when his drink was all over several people, including himself.

"It's more than 'a shame,'" the turian growled. "Do you know who I am?"

"Can't say that I do. Or that I care." Kolyat knew that he should back down, and leave, but at this point, he was tired of suffering assholes. He was tired of people looking down on him, the people in charge of the halfway house, the others who stayed there, even some of the C-Sec officers. And now this jerk off was just throwing more fuel on the fire. Sooner or later, he would need to vent. Now seemed as good a time as any

"I don't give a fuck who _you_ are, who _your_ _grandfather_ was, what _war_ he fought in, or any of that pompous elcor shit. This is your fault; you should have just gotten out of my seat."

The turian’s mandibles flared wide, baring sharp teeth, and he growled, a primal, visceral sound. He looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel.

The turian cocked his arm back, and Kolyat braced himself for the blow, his body too sluggish and weighed down with drink to fight back. When he'd expected it to hit, he felt his body lurch back, as something pulled hard on the collar of his jacket. Before he knew it, he had been dragged through the bar and dropped on his ass in the middle of the pedway outside the bar.

"You must be some kind of dumb." Sergeant Haron glowered down at him.

"What's your problem?" Kolyat snapped, struggling to get to his feet. He'd be damned if he gave someone else the chance to look down on him today, literally or figuratively.

"You aren't supposed to be in bars, for one. And I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be getting into fights in your situation. You must really be stupid."

"Fuck off.” Kolyat staggered to his feet, a hand pressed against the wall for balance.

"Right, because insulting me is going to help you right now."

"Fuck _off_ ," Kolyat said again as he leaned into the wall. "Like you really want to help me. Who are you, my dad?" Haron said nothing as Kolyat started to walk away, leaning heavily the wall. "I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help." Kolyat managed to get to his feet alright. He was well on his way home until the wall sharply turned into a corner. He stumbled at its sudden disappearance and fell to his knees. He didn't really know where he was going; it was passed curfew, and the doors of the Spiral Arms were long closed. Even if they weren't, there was no way they would let him in drunk, and there was no guarantee he'd made it there at all. He couldn't even see straight.

He leaned his head back on the wall, and closed his eyes. He just wanted to sleep, and maybe find out this was all some bad dream. Something obscured the light from the neon sign overhead. "Go away," he groaned, curling up into a ball in the middle of the pedway. His stomach was starting to hurt. He knew he should have started drinking on an empty stomach.

"You can't sleep here," the turian above him huffed.

"What are you going to do? Arrest me?" He chuckled, long past caring. At least a cell would be a place to stay. He didn't fight as he was hauled to his feet, fatigue numbing his senses.

"That's right." Haron leaned his shoulder into Kolyat's gut, and lifted him off the ground, hefting the weight onto his back.

"They don't pay me enough for this," Haron grumbled to himself and stalked off.


	2. An'ur

Lugging around six feet of unconscious drell was no easy feat. Granted, Haron lived in the apartments just above the bar, and he only carried Kolyat from the door to the elevator and from the elevator to his apartment, his body still protested. Since drell were densely muscled, they were a lot heavier than they looked.

Haron opened the door and unceremoniously dumped the drell on the couch. Kolyat passed out somewhere between the curb and the apartment door, and had no qualms about being dropped like a sack of sand. It didn’t seem comfortable to be sprawled across the couch, in sticky clothes, but there wasn’t a lot Haron was willing to do about it. He tried to tug off Kolyat’s boots, but they seemed to be connected to his pants. In that case, they would stay right where they were.

This was a one-time deal: He’d let the drell crash here tonight, but in the morning he was gone, no ifs, ands, or buts. After a quick shower, Haron crawled into his own bed and drifted off to sleep.

-~xXx~-

For the first time in a long while, Kolyat felt warm, safe. When he woke up in the middle of the night, he wasn’t sure of where he was, but something in his subconscious told him that he was okay. Later, he would worry about where he was, but for now, he’d just enjoy this feeling of peace.

-~xXx~-

Haron had been dreaming. Not something out of the ordinary by itself, but these dreams were so vivid, he found himself wondering if it really was a dream.

It had been about his ex, Shatira, and the brief period they’d lived together. Thankfully, the dream only covered the “fun stuff”, before things had fallen apart. He woke up and blinked up at the ceiling. Usually, dreams as vivid as these left him feeling hollow, and only served to remind him of how lonely the apartment was now and how big the bed seemed. He’d usually spend the rest of the day, poring over what could have gone wrong, what he could have done to make her stay. But today, he didn’t have any of that old regret.

The alarm set on the bedside table blared to life, and he rolled over and smacked the snooze button. He wasn’t even sure why the thing was set on his day off. As he settled back into bed, he felt something press up against his back.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he truly wanted to believe that this person in bed with him was Shatira, come back to him. He had never been able to delete her profile from the security system. It was possible, but Haron’s luck had never been that good.

Cool fingers rested against his hood, as the body sidled closer. Even as he tried to deny it, Kolyat slung his leg over the turian’s bony hip.

 _This_ _certainly wasn’t a part of the arrangement_ , Haron sighed and cast a glance over his shoulder. How long had he been there? He didn’t seem the sleepwalking type. As he watched Kolyat, debating what to do with him, the drell had begun to make the oddest sound, like a contented varren after a belly rub. Somehow, Haron found himself taking this new development in stride.

Haron’s mind wandered back to the vivid dream, and the best night’s sleep he’d had in ages.  He glanced down at Kolyat, sincerely hoping the two weren’t related. People had done stranger things than “walk” in their sleep. He should probably wake Kolyat and find out, but he, too, looked as if he hadn’t rested well for some time. Halfway houses were a roof over your head, and a bed to sleep in, but not much more. Haron had heard some horror stories. He’d let the kid stay a little longer, but he had to at least put some space between them. After establishing a comfortable distanced, Haron attempted to drift back to sleep. He’d almost drifted off when his security system jolted him awake.

He had a visitor.

“An’ur?” The voice of his sister echoed through his apartment, her disapproval resonating off the walls. Surprisingly, the drell slept on. “Don’t tell me you forgot about our brunch.”

Haron had, in fact, forgotten. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spent his evening getting smashed and carting around drunks. He sat up slowly, trying to keep the world from spinning. He threw on an old, beat up bathrobe that Shatira had hated and dashed out into the living room.

He opened the door, and tried his best to appear ill. "Hello, Kaean," he coughed, leaning heavily on the doorjamb.

"Hello, brother," Kaean said, looking fresh and polished and every bit their mother's daughter.

"I hate for you to come all this way, but I think I'm too sick to go out to brunch today." Haron coughed again, bending in half. Even if he hadn't brought home a drunken drell, Haron would have declined. The age difference between them had always set them apart. She was well into her service years when he was coming up, so they never really had a chance to connect. Recently, however, she'd been stopping by more and more. He knew his sister was here to check up on him in their mother's absence, but Haron never really liked to force their chats.

"I figured you would say something like that, as you do every time I'm on this station," Kaean shook her head at him, as she had when he'd misbehaved as a child. "This time, I came prepared." She held up a large bag of take out from the restaurant a few blocks down.

"I..uh… I wouldn't want you to take home germs to Mikael and the kids." Haron found himself floundering. Could nothing go smoothly?

Kaean laughed. "You worry too much, An’ur," and she pushed past him and into the apartment. She went straight into the kitchen and began rifling through his cabinets.

"Is Shatira here? I seem to always miss her with I come by... I’ve brought some levo food for her.”

Haron watched as she pulled out a few sets of plates, cups and flatware. "No, she... _We_ broke up."

"Oh," Kaean stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that." But Haron could tell by the slight parting of her mandibles that she was far from broken up about it. Kaean, like both their parents, had an aversion to things that didn't adhere to the turian code of conduct. Bedding asari and habitual intoxication topped the list of things they didn't approve of.

As Kaean started setting up plates, she cocked her head to the side. “If she doesn't stay with you any longer, then whose clothes are those?" Haron followed her line of sight to the trail of discarded clothes leading from the living room towards the bedroom. Haron simply stared slack jawed.

He tried to process the clothes and what they meant. Kolyat had been in bed with him, naked. It didn't compute that he didn't notice the naked drell or the clothes that littered the hallway floor. He worked to come up with a suitable excuse, as far removed from the truth as possible, when Kolyat stepped out of the bedroom.

Thankfully, he wasn't naked, though, he was wearing much less than Haron would have preferred; stripped to the waist and clad only in a pair of black shorts that didn’t leave much to the imagination. He was half-asleep as he wobbled across the narrow hallway and into the bathroom. Haron slowly turned to face his sister. 

"It's not what you think..."

"I'm not too sure _what_ I think."

"He's one of our hard luck cases down at the station. I came across him in the bar last night and he was in a bad way..." Every word only made the situation sound worse, and he didn't seem to be able to shut his mouth. "He was supposed to be sleeping on the couch--"

"Yet here he is, coming out of your bedroom, and half-naked, no less.” She stared down at his open robe, and he tugged it closed around his neck. “I must say, brother, you're nothing if not dedicated, _bringing_ _your work home_ , as it were." Her face was inscrutable, but Haron thought he heard a hint of amusement in her voice. "He certainly seems like he's right up your alley. He's awfully _exotic_ looking, isn't he?"

"Kaean..." Haron buried his face in his hands as he sighed, exasperated.

"Well. Invite your little friend to eat with us," Kaean said as she set out an extra place setting. "I hate to see good food go to waste, even if it is levo."

Haron flew down the hallway, scooping up Kolyat’s discarded clothes as he went. He reached the bathroom door, poised to override the lock, when it slid open on its own. Kolyat took a few steps back in surprise. “Get dressed,” Haron said as he threw the clothes into Kolyat’s arms. A few pieces missed and landed on the floor. “You’re staying for lunch...brunch--whatever. Afterward, we’re going to have a nice little chat.” The doors slid closed before Kolyat could argue, and Haron rushed back to his room to dress himself.

Brunch was civil; Kaean kept her xenophobic comments to herself and didn’t question Kolyat on why he was there, and Kolyat behaved like a different person all together. He spoke when spoken to in polite even tones. Hell, he was downright personable. Haron didn’t think it was possible.

Kaean left without managing to embarrass her brother, and promised that next time, she’d call before she came over.

As the door closed soundly behind Kaean, Haron turned to Kolyat who was lounging on the couch, like he belonged there.

“Time for that talk.”

-~xXx~-

Kolyat had heard what Haron said, but continued to flick through holo channels until Haron turned the receiver off.

“What was that all about?”

“What was _what_?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Haron said, getting frustrated. He looked to Kolyat, expecting him to fill in the blank. Kolyat raised a brow ridge. He knew very well what he meant. Did he want to talk about it? Not really. “Me… finding you somewhere other than where I left you last night.” Kolyat rolled his eyes. “Oh, _that_.”

“Yes, that.” Haron's mandibles twitched nervously.

Kolyat feigned a cough, covering his mouth with his fist to hide a grin. Seeing the usually cool officer actually flustered was hilarious. He coughed again, trying to regain his composure.“It’s not like it was by choice.” He shrugged. “I was cold.”

“Cold?” Haron repeated, incredulous. It wouldn’t be the oddest place Kolyat had ever found himself in search of warmth. It was instinctive. If he could have worked the thermostat in his semiconscious state, he would have rather done that.

“Rakhana was a warm planet. So is Kahje. This station, not so much. And you keep it cold in here.” He rubbed his arms to emphasize the point.

That seemed to calm Haron’s nerves some, his mandibles finally relaxing.  “I see.” He let himself drop bonelessly into an armchair. He looked like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “That’s a relief.”

Kolyat made a strange noise, something between a strangled laugh and a cough. “What did you think happened?”

“I didn’t think anything other than what most people would if they woke up with a stranger in their bed.”

Kolyat snorted. “You should be so lucky. I can hardly stand you enough to sit here talking to you, let alone...”  He flailed his hand in Haron’s direction, unable to bring himself to say the word.

“Since we’re on the subject...” Haron slid forward in his chair. “Why is that?” The look on Kolyat’s face must have said it all, as Haron rushed to clarify. “What is your problem with me?”

Kolyat didn’t know where to start. Haron hadn’t wronged Kolyat, personally, but there was something about the turian that worked its way under his skin. When he was around, Kolyat felt more annoyed than usual, and he it always seemed he wanted to act out when Haron was monitoring him. When everything got to be too much, and he needed to act out, to disobey, Haron usually let him. But he gave back as good as he got. He worked him harder than any other officer he’d come into contact with.

“I dunno. I don’t like you as much as you don’t like me.” Kolyat shrugged again. “It happens.”

Haron was quiet a while as he regarded the drell. His eyes took on the same steely glint Kolyat had seen when he was interrogating crooks. “I wouldn’t say I dislike you. You just make yourself hard to get along with sometimes.”

It was true. Kolyat had been abrasive on purpose, but that’s how you stayed safe. Don’t let anyone in, and you don’t get attached. That way no one could hurt you or leave you.

“Maybe...”  Kolyat said, as he pushed up from the couch. The mood in this place had gotten heavy in a hurry. He needed some air.

“How about we try a compromise,” Haron said, as he watched over the back of the chair. “I’ll ease up on you, if you act less like an ass to me.”

“Why would I do that?” Kolyat stood in the doorway, ready to run through it, yet he felt obligated to hear Haron out.

“Because we don’t have to be enemies.” Haron sounded sincere and in the back of his head, Kolyat wanted to believe that he really meant it, that there was actually someone he could let down his guard with.

This was bad. Kolyat sighed as he opened the apartment door. He could tell Haron was still watching him over the back of the chair, waiting for an answer. A knot formed in the middle of his shoulders that he tried to shrug out.

“I’ll think about it,” was all he said and let the door close behind him. 


	3. Distractions

“Sorry about the mix up, sir. Enjoy your stay on the Citadel.” 

That was the fourth time Haron had messed up a routine scan this shift and for a turian who prided himself on not making mistakes, it was alarming. He was distracted, his mind on other things, other places, other people...

He hadn’t seen any sign of the drell for four days, not that Haron had been looking very hard. Kolyat had missed almost a week' of work, which wasn’t like him. As much as he protested coming, he’d never been absent before.

Kolyat knew that Bailey’s work, disguised as community service, was his ticket out of the mess he’d gotten himself in. Even if he didn’t care much for the work itself, he knew that by completing it he would come out the other side of his sentence a free man, with no mention of the assault of Talid on his record.

Bailey thought it wise to make use of Kolyat’s vivid memory by having him do some light undercover detail-- discretely, of course. Kolyat could go places most C-Sec officers couldn’t and get information without rousing suspicion. Most people had never seen a drell before, and you’d think that would be to a disadvantage, but Kolyat never did anything to make himself stand out. Despite being a rare sight on the Citadel, Kolyat had a way of blending into any dive and be regarded as just another body occupying a stool.

Haron didn’t like the idea of sending the kid into places filled with low-lives unarmed. But when he'd expressed this to Bailey, he'd been accused of “coddling” Krios.

“If you’ve got such a bug in your bonnet about Krios doing the recon alone, you’re more than welcome to go with him,” Bailey said.  Haron didn’t think it was such a good idea, but Bailey had assured him that the places they were frequenting were patronized by people who came to the Citadel by less than legal means. Anyone they would encounter likely bypassed C-Sec’s security checkpoint all together, meaning Haron as well. In the end, Bailey was enthralled by the idea. Haron was capable with a weapon and could keep the drell out of trouble, and Bailey hoped that Haron’s work ethic and calm would rub off on the kid. Haron never had much of a choice.

It had occurred to him that Kolyat might be too shook to see him. The other night, things had gotten weird.  He put up a tough front, but it wasn’t every day you woke up with an extra body in your bed, let alone someone who acted like they hated you on a regular basis.

Haron tried to swallow but his mouth had gone extra dry. It would probably be better for everyone involved if Krios just got transferred to someone else.

“Excuse me -gasp- Palaven-clan,” an irate tourist said loudly. Haron had zoned out before she reached the gate and had her waiting thirty seconds too long. A female volus wearing possibly the most attention grabbing enviro-suit Haron had ever laid eyes on stared up at him. In a multitude of pinks, oranges, greens and blues, she looked like a rainbow had vomited on her.  She and the two krogan flanking her looked weary and understandably annoyed.

“Do you think I’ll be able -wheeze- to get in sometime today?”

Tucking his head to his chest in embarrassment, Haron’s fingers flew over the console as he ran checks for concealed weapons and other contraband. “Please go ahead, ma’am,” he said once his scans came up clean. He gently scratched the back of his head with a sigh once the travelers had passed through. He’d never been this distracted from his work. Ever.

When his father had to be moved into a hospice facility, Haron had taken two hours to see that the old turian had gotten settled in before heading back to work. Haron had made up those hours that same day. The night he’d come home and found that Shatira had packed up and left, he’d cried himself into the bottom of a bottle but had shown up to work, on time, the next day.

He was a professional. He was turian, and above all, he was a Haron. Screw-ups couldn’t be tolerated, no matter the reason. If Kolyat didn’t show up today, then Haron would just have to track him down and get to the bottom of this.

Haron only wished he knew why his absence bothered him so much.

-~xXx~-

Standing in the alcove near the front of the Zakera ward station beside Bailey’s empty desk, Kolyat glowered through the glass at passersby. Kolyat knew there was somewhere he should be, and this wasn’t it.

He’d missed four appointments with Haron so far, and was about to make it a full five. The office he was supposed to meet Haron in was a short walk from here, but he couldn’t bring himself to go. Kolyat knew that he should. A very small part of him actually _wanted_ to go, but whenever he considered facing Haron again, and embarrassed flush warmed his neck.

He’d consistently been a jerk to Haron for no good reason, there was no getting around it, and Haron’s enthralling little speech shined more light on that fact. _They didn’t have to be enemies_ , Haron had said, and despite himself, Kolyat wanted to believe him.

There was no reason why he should, but he truly wanted to. He didn’t have to continue to live his life as if he had a target on his back. If he just let down his guard, Kolyat might finally be able to find some solace, some comfort.

_Comfort._

The memory of him waking up in Haron’s bed assailed him and he fluted low in his throat with distress as he tried to push it down. Despite what he told Haron, he had no idea why he made his way into the turian's bed.

Kolyat said that he’d been cold, and he had found himself in far worse places in search of warmth. The time he'd woken up wedged between a wall and a heating vent had come to mind, but that was a far different sleeping arrangement than this.

In hindsight, the cold excuse seemed so flimsy that he wasn't sure if he believed it himself. But lame excuse or not, he found it better than the alternative. Being lonely wasn’t a crime, but it sure felt like one when it drove him to do things he wouldn’t ordinarily, even subconsciously.

The drell dragged a hand over his face and sneered as his own reflection, startling an unlucky asari on the other side of the glass.

_You’re an idiot_ , he admonished himself, tucking his hand in the crook of his arm.

They hadn’t done anything, thankfully, so there was no reason for Kolyat to feel so distressed.

He needed to suck it up. Or at the very least, let Haron know he wasn’t dead. He’d show up once he got his head on straight. And at this rate, his sentence would probably be over before that happened.

Gathering his things and what little courage he could muster, he turned the corner that lead towards Haron’s temporary office.  Kolyat had planned on delivering his message and fleeing. Instead, he ran into the officer in question.

They bumped, chest to plated chest and repelled each other similarly polarized mangets. Staggering back from the impact, Kolyat tripped over his own feet and fell hard to the floor. His head hit the wall at his back and stars burst before his eyes. He swore under his breath as he angrily tried to rub the pain away.

“That looked like it hurt,” Haron said, keeping any mirth he might have felt out of his voice. The turian extended a three-fingered hand to Kolyat who simply looked at it, as if it alone was responsible for his pain.

_You said you were going to try, remember?_ he chided himself, but looking at Haron’s stupid face made him want to act up all over again. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly through puffed cheeks.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, accepting the offered help and pulling himself to his feet.

“Not a problem.” Haron said, straightening his uniform. It figured that the officer couldn’t stand to be rumpled or have a seam out of place. “Haven’t seen you around for a while,” Haron said offhandedly. All of his reprimands started that way. “Where have you been?”

“Busy,” Kolyat said, the single word sounding more hostile than he’d intended.

“Too busy to show up for appointments with your parole officer?” That term wasn’t exactly truthful, but it was the closest thing they could say in public.

Kolyat shrugged. He could hardly tell Haron why he hadn’t been showing up. It was childish  and stupid and --oh  god, he cared what Haron thought of him.

“Do you not want to do this anymore?” Haron almost sounded hopeful, which caused Kolyat to raise a brow. He wasn’t fond of the work, but it beat being in jail, or picking up trash.

“That’s not it...” He bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything more. He wouldn't be rude, but he didn't want to pour out his heart to him just yet.

“Then there’s some other problem...?” Realization hit the turian, and he looked as eager to enter this territory as Kolyat felt.  He closed the gap between them in the already crowded alcove. “I know things got a little... _personal_ the other day.” Haron lowered his voice to a whisper that set fire to Kolyat's blood. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “If this is too weird for you, we can get another officer to be your shadow.”

_Weird_ was an understatement. Kolyat shut his eyes trying to ignore the tension building in his limbs, but the feeling of the heat rolling off of Haron was too much. It was like being next to a furnace. No wonder he’d sought him out in the middle of the night. He crushed himself against the cool wall, hoping the contact would sober him. It didn’t.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kolyat breathed. He hoped he didn’t sound as out of it as he felt.  “It wasn’t that big a deal. I really was busy.” He was lying through his teeth, but it was easier to stomach than the impending truth. “I was expecting a message from my father, so I had to hang around the pay-per-use extranet hubs.”

“Oh,” Haron said stepping back.  “If that was all, you could have just told me. You could have used one of the ones around here, or mine.”

“I’ll remember for next time,” Kolyat said, the knot between his shoulders easing slightly.

“I’m sure you will,” Haron fired back, taking on a more professional air. He tapped the folder he’d tucked under his arm against his palm idly. “I’ve got your paperwork for your next assignment. Do you need me to brief you?”

“I can handle it.”

Haron handed the folder to him but didn’t release his grip on it. Their eyes met and Kolyat could feel his heartbeat starting to pick up the tempo.

“Make sure you throw it away this time.” Haron said, giving him a stern look. He meant it, just like he meant everything else. Kolyat quickly stuffed the folder into his pack. If he’d owned a datapad or a terminal this would be a lot easier. But even if he could afford either of those things, it made no sense to buy anything new while he was staying at the Spiral Arms. It would be gone within a week. “If you’re all set, then I guess. You know the drill: Let me know when you’re ready to go and I’ll meet you down there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kolyat groused, giving up on the idea of being nice for the moment.  He turned on his heel, eager to put some distance between them.

“Call me if you need me,” Haron called after him, and Kolyat tossed a wave over his shoulder without looking back.

Away from Haron’s heat, Kolyat’s head returned to normal. With any luck, he’d be able to keep it that way for a while. But that meant he’d have to stay away from Haron, which wasn't going to happen. He sighed, as he finally exited the station.

_What a mess._


	4. Bruises

It never failed. Just when Haron's life seemed to be settling down and everything was starting to resemble normal again, and he thought it was safe to kick up his feet and relax, the doorbell rang. Every. Single. Time.

The last time, it had been someone to come get some of Shatira's things, tearing open a fresh wound. The krogan who darkened Haron's door said he was a moving man, but for all Haron knew he might have been her new paramour. He wouldn't put it past her. Haron hadn't needled the mover about his true identity, too preoccupied with what exactly the krogan's visit meant for him. Shatira didn't even want to face him. She was gone for good, and the knowledge left him feeling hollow and alone. Hopefully, this interruption of everyday life wouldn't be as annoying.

Extracting himself from the groove he'd made in the couch, Haron hobbled over to the security console, a blanket draped over his shoulders. He didn't call out to his uninvited guest, not yet sure he was in the mood for company. Peering at the small display, he saw a familiar domed head, rife with scales and bony protrusions. The drell wasn't facing the camera, leaning heavily against the wall. It didn't take a salarian to see that something was wrong.

Haron opened the door and Kolyat all but fell inside. He would have smacked soundly onto the floor, if Haron hadn't caught him in time. His clothes were torn and dirty. One of his eyes was swollen. His bottom lip was torn and oozed bright red blood.

As Haron half-dragged him inside, Kolyat winced and writhed. He had more injuries than what Haron could see. Kolyat struggled to his feet, and helped Haron maneuver him to the couch.

"You want to tell me what happened?" Haron asked once the drell's had settled in and his face no longer pinched in pain.

-~xXx~-

Kolyat looked away. It was embarrassing enough that his feet had brought him here, when his mind was too messed up to decide where to go, he could hardly tell him why he'd gotten his ass handed to him in the first place.

"Fine. Whatever. Don't tell me," Haron huffed, throwing his hands in the air.

The turian disappeared into the back of the apartment. Kolyat expected to be thrown out for his obstinance. Instead, Haron pulled his armchair next to the couch, a medi-kit balanced on his lap.

Kolyat winced as Haron's fingers brushed over his lip and brow. "Don't fidget," Haron chided. Steely blue eyes narrowed in concentration as Haron gently cleaned both areas before liberally applying a layer of medi-gel. Kolyat caught himself staring at Haron's eyes, trying to discern just what color they were. He didn't think he'd seen anything like them before, but eye color wasn't high on Kolyat's list of priorities. He could recognize a person's face at a glance, he'd never felt the need to dwell on each fine detail, but right now he found it hard to not take them in. The eyes looking over his face now were warm and attentive, flecked with smatterings of grey. When they flicked and met Kolyat's own gaze, his heart leapt into his throat.

"Unzip your shirt."

"W-what?" The drell edged away, pressing himself deep into the cushions of the couch. He'd already had a tenuous grasp on his sanity as it was. This wasn't going to help things.

Haron didn't seem to notice his patient's distress as he edged forward, closing the gap. "I need to see where else you're injured. If you can't do it yourself, I'll do it for you." He reached for the neck of Kolyat's shirt and he flinched away again.

"I can do it myself," Kolyat croaked.

Hands shaking more than they should, Kolyat lowered his zipper. He eased the fabric away from his smarting side and angled it towards Haron. He could feel Haron's eyes on him, so he cast his own gaze towards the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the man in front of him. Kolyat started trying to count the metal slats that lined the ceiling, but his concentration waned when Haron touched him. Haron's hands were almost hot, not cold like Kolyat had expected from the look if him, and the tips of his fingers were surprisingly smooth. He used a tender touch, gliding over what must be bruised ribs. While Kolyat could feel pressure, he hardly felt any pain. Every now and then, Haron would push down, bring tears to his eyes, but he gritted his teeth through it.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Haron looked up at him, his face mere inches from Kolyat's side. When he exhaled, it warmed Kolyat's skin and made him tingle. Kolyat's throat was tight, but he managed a strangled "No". Even if he had other bruises, he would have lied. He couldn't take much more of this treatment. "You can zip up now," Haron said, pulling back, and Kolyat let out a sigh of relief.

Haron wiped his hands on a dishcloth as he strode into the kitchen, and out of sight. He returned with the cloth wrapped around several pieces of ice. He reclaimed his chair and applied the cold compress to Kolyat's eye. Then, he grabbed the drell's hand and moved it to hold the pack in place. Kolyat winced again, but obediently held it steady.

"You aren't going to tell me to go to a hospital?" Kolyat asked, twisting to look at Haron with his good eye.

"If I did, would you go?"

Kolyat shook his head and immediately regretted it. The world skewed and twisted as if it was being sucked down a drain. Once his vision had righted itself, Kolyat said "Probably not."

"I figured if you could have gone, you would have. I know hospital visits aren't cheap, especially when you don't have insurance."

"How did you know how to do all this?" Kolyat asked, eager to change the subject from his state of abject poverty.

"During my service years, I was a field medic." Haron shrugged as if it was nothing impressive. "Nothing too serious, but I knew enough to keep more than a few good turians from dying."

"How'd that happen?" Kolyat found it hard to imagine a turian doing anything other than holding a gun and barking orders, or following them.

"Well, there was already a lot of infantry, and I don't do so well with flying, so I figured why not. There are other ways of serving the greater good without shooting at people. I think so, anyway." Haron's voice trailed off wistfully, in a way that made Kolyat think it wasn't a popular opinion.

It wasn't often Haron talked about himself, but now that he was open, Kolyat felt free to prod him. Kolyat wanted to know more, despite his claims to the opposite. "How'd you end up working at C-Sec?"

Haron went silent and shut his eyes. Kolyat thought he wasn't going to get an answer, but eventually Haron spoke up. "I knew from the start that being your typical soldier wasn't for me. I didn't really want to go to med school, but that wasn't really an option to begin with. I needed to get out of my folks' place and, well, the rest is history." That far away look in Haron's eyes persisted. This obviously wasn't an easy topic for him, so Kolyat let it drop. The last thing he wanted was to see the poor guy sad.

"So what's the damage?" Kolyat shifted a little in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

Haron sifted through the medi-kit and pulled out a small bottle, quickly reading over the label. "From what I can see, you've got a few scrapes and a couple of bruised ribs, but you'll live." He shook out a few pills into Kolyat's palm. "Take a few painkillers and you'll be fine, eventually. These should be all right to take; they're levo. Sorry I don't have a hypo, instead. "

-~xXx~-

 _What's that sound?_

It was low, just barely in the range of Haron's hearing. It was like a chirp but deeper and slower. He looked towards his guest and noticed he looked particularly uncomfortable. His uncovered eye was large and wide, staring at Haron intently.

"T-thanks," Kolyat stammered out and the chirping stopped only to begin again once he'd finished talking. Kolyat quickly looked away. His hand holding the pills curled into a tight fist in his lap.

"Are you feeling alright?" Haron asked, afraid that the damage might be worse than he thought. Without thinking, Haron moved towards the drell to check his breathing, only to have Kolyat sidle away,

"I'm fine." His voice was forceful, tinged with panicked. Haron was starting to worry. Erring on the side of caution, Haron fetched a glass of water and thrust it into Kolyat's unoccupied hand.

Kolyat set down his ice pack and took it long enough to take the pills. He took them in one gulp and drained his glass greedily. Empty, he toyed with it between long, slim teal fingers.

"Why do you have levo medicine?" He asked, looking down at the glass, and not at Haron.

"They were for Shatira, my ex-girlfriend." Haron hoped that answer would suffice. It would be a little embarrassing to explain that occasionally messing around with a turian could result in painful cuts and scrapes.

"How long have you been broken up?" Kolyat seemed to have a knack for finding every sore spot and traipsing all over it. Haron knew he could decline, but it was oddly cathartic. He hadn't really spoken about these things with anyone. It had always been too hard.

Haron couldn't figure out just what about his love life was so fascinating. Or anything else about him. He was the most boring person he knew. "A little more than a year," he answered honestly. "Why do you ask?" Kolyat just shrugged.

The questions grew more pointed, but Haron tried to brush it off. Kolyat was finally warming up to him, so he'd just have to take it for what it was. He'd heard about people who'd been in tough situations before, only being able to trust others once they knew everything about them. This seemed like it could be like that.

But it wasn't.

While Haron had been off in his own little world, Kolyat had slid forward in his seat and kissed him.

It was a light, experimental peck, but it was enough to take Haron by surprise. He didn't think Kolyat was attracted to him, but this new information seemed to explain a lot about the drell's behavior. Why Kolyat avoided him, why he was so snarky; Kolyat had developed a crush on.

 _Uh-oh._

Kolyat slid back in his seat, looking embarrassed. His breathing was a little strained, and the ribbed flesh of his neck darkened, but Haron didn't want to think too hard about what that meant. He was out of his element. Haron didn't know what to say, or to do with a potentially lovesick drell, or a lovesick anyone else for that matter. So, he did the only thing he could.

"Well, I'd better be getting to bed," Haron said, standing, and giving an exaggerated yawn to make his point. "Make yourself comfortable and we'll… uh... talk in the morning." Kolyat nodded silently as his gaze followed Haron's path across the room. Haron made it a point to turn up the thermostat, so they wouldn't have a repeat of the last time Kolyat stayed over. Just to be safe, he'd be sure to lock his door as well.

"Goodnight, Haron," Kolyat said quietly as his host started towards his bedroom.

Haron lingered in the mouth of the hallway, facing into it, too afraid of what he'd see if he turned around.

"'Night, Krios."


	5. Amicably

That night, Haron didn't sleep a wink. Instead, he spent his evening watching the door for any signs of drell. The rest he just lay awake thinking. Haron had some knowledge of human and asari social traditions, but he knew almost nothing of drell. For all he knew, Kolyat might have just been expressing gratitude for his help. OK, that sounded a bit farfetched, but Haron was willing to admit he may have jumped the gun with is deduction. On the off chance that he was wrong, he was willing to overlook what happened. If it was just a temporary lapse in judgment, there was no reason to make a big deal out of it, and make the poor kid feel bad.

Resolved to handle this as amicably as possible, Haron dragged himself out of bed and into the living room. It was a relief to find Kolyat right where he'd left him on the couch, still asleep.

Rather than wake him, Haron figured he'd get himself settled, so he didn't look as worn down as he felt. As he fumbled through his cabinets in search of caf, it occurred to him that he didn't have any dextro-food to offer Kolyat. Not really. In the back of the cabinet, Haron found the odd package from the last time Shatira had gone shopping, but it was well beyond its expiration date. He'd have to get around to cleaning out the whole apartment sooner or later. Rummaging through the fridge revealed similar results along with the revelation that he didn't have much to feed himself, either. He chided himself for how dependent he'd become on Shatira's presence. Everything had gone to shit now that she was gone.

After placing an order for one dextro and one levo meal with the diner around the corner, he made a mental note go shopping. Hopefully it would help him get the rest of his life in order. Just as the food arrived, Kolyat finally stirred. It figured that he'd only wake up at the most convenient time.

"Here," Haron said, setting a package on the coffee table in front of Kolyat, who eyed it wantonly. "Hope it's alright," Haron said apologetically, "When I told them it was for a drell, they had no idea what I was talking about."

With some visible effort, Kolyat forced himself to eat slowly. He took huge forkfuls, but chewed slowly, trying to keep the food from coming back up. Deciding it would be creepy to observe him silently, Haron moved closer cautiously. Catching the movement out of the corner of his eye, Kolyat froze.

"You seem to be healing up nicely," Haron said, his head cocked to one side. The swelling on Kolyat's had gone down and his lip had completely healed. "How's your side doing?"

Kolyat pressed a few tentative fingers to his ribs and winced. "Better. Not a hundred percent, but not as bad as it was."

Haron nodded, approvingly. "That'll take a while to heal. Help yourself to the painkillers."

Haron set his cleaned plate on the coffee table, arranging the utensils neatly on it. There were about fifty things they should talk about, but Haron didn't know where to start. In the end, he picked what he hoped would be the least invasive and embarrassing of the questions running around his mind. "Are you ready to tell me who did this to you?"

-~xXx~-

Kolyat lowered his gaze to his tray. He didn't want to talk about what had happened, now or ever but he knew he would have to eventually.

"I'm just trying to help you here," Haron said not unkindly. He sipped the mud-colored liquid in his mug.

"I know," Kolyat mumbled, more to his food. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Is that your catchphrase or something? Is someone paying you to say that?" Haron's tone straddled the line between amused and annoyed. "Stop telling me not worry about things. When you show up on my doorstep looking like you got your ass handed to you on a platter, I'm going to worry about it."

Heat flushed to Kolyat's throat; Haron's concern perplexed him. Haron didn't owe him anything. He didn't have to help him, yet the officer spoke like it was only natural that he would be concerned. But Kolyat knew that more than a few people would have left him in the hallway. It might have been for the better.

Kolyat had made a huge ass of himself. He didn't know what he'd been thinking, kissing Haron like that. It had been like he had no choice in the matter. It just... happened. But he wouldn't let it happen again, or try not to. Kolyat chanced a glance at Haron who looked back at him expectantly. Kolyat sighed and set down his fork. Even though he hadn't eaten since sometime yesterday, his food had lost its taste.

"I fucked up."

"How?"

"I meant to throw those briefs away, but I never got around to it." Kolyat weighed his words for something that wouldn't make him sound like the asshole he felt like, but he came up dry. He blew out a shaky breath and tried the direct approach. "Someone found them." Haron was silent, but the way his mandibles tucked against his cheeks made Kolyat nervous. He hurried to explain. "I came in and found someone snooping through my stuff. I don't think he read much, but I ripped the paper out of his hands and tore it up. "We got into a fight and some of the others got involved... I think it was more because of what I did, rather than anything that was on the paper."

Kolyat replayed the scene in his head: He'd entered the room he shared with five other lost souls to find Pham, a human who was as wide across as two of Kolyat, nosing through his things. Kolyat opened his mouth to chew Pham out for messing with his shit, but froze when Pham pulled a long piece of paper out from underneath Kolyat's bad. The human turned it over several times before he'd started reading, and that's when Kolyat sprang into action. Kolyat shoved Pham to the ground and snatched the paper out of his hand. He'd gathered up all the papers he'd stowed under his cot and ran with them to the incinerator. Then they'd caught up with him.

They'd lost interest after Kolyat stopped crying out and they left him curled up on the ground. He probably still be there now if something in his subconscious hadn't forced him to his feet and off to Haron's. Parts of his memory were spotty, and he couldn't recall how long the trip to Haron's was, but he guessed it had taken a while. Kolyat didn't fancy himself a trouble maker, he never went looking for it, yet it always came knocking at his door. He didn't want to get Haron involved in any mess he'd unintentionally kicked up but the officer had to know. Hell, he might even be able to help.

Haron was silent while Kolyat stared down at the table. He cursed himself for being so careless. Haron had told him a million times to destroy the briefs, but he'd been lazy, and obstinate. There was no one to blame but himself. Kolyat raised his eyes, his throat still burned with shame. He'd let Haron down. He wouldn't be surprised if Haron asked him to leave. "Haron...I'm sorry," he croaked, sounding more upset that he thought he was.

Haron sighed, leaning back in his chair, making Kolyat realize he'd been sitting forward this whole time.

"Were these old briefings or the one I just gave you?" Haron asked simply. He sounded too calm.

"They were old. I still have the last folder you gave me in my bag."

Kolyat hadn't even had time to set his bag down before the ruckus started. In his haze, he still had the presence of mind to drag it along with him on his trek across the wards. He snatched up his duffle and rifled through it. The folder was there, though slightly wrinkled and compressed, as were a few of his other belongings. He gave them a quick once over, making sure nothing was broken, before setting the bag back on the floor.

"I'll see what I can do about getting you transferred to another home for the rest of your community service. At least that way, you probably won't see those hoods again."

"You don't have to do that," Kolyat said quickly. He knew he couldn't go back there after what he'd done, and he had no other options, but it still felt funny admitting he needed help.

Haron ignored him. "While I'm looking into your case, you can make yourself at home. If you want to order something to eat, you can use my information." Kolyat had just eaten, so he didn't see that happening any time soon.

He watched Haron busy himself with cleaning up the remnants of their meal, unable to sit still. He seemed angry, but Kolyat didn't think it was with him. "Why are you doing all of this for me?" Kolyat asked, unable to watch him fidget any longer.

Haron paused, and looked like he was thinking it over. Kolyat found it hard to believe that he'd done all of this without ever really thinking about it, and no one did anything for free. The turian looked chagrined as he regarded the Kolyat. "Because it seems like you need help."


	6. Moral Objection

A cold, uncomfortable feeling crept up Haron's spine as he waited in the office for Bailey. Logically, Haron knew that this meeting had nothing to do with any conduct on his part, but he still felt nervous about meeting with his commanding officer. Most subordinates avoided drawing the attention of their superiors, unless they were trying to advance, and honestly, Haron was fine where he was. Returning to how things were before this whole debacle started would be even better.

The door opened, and Bailey dragged himself in, looking like he hadn't slept in days. He even yawned. When Haron had requested this meeting, the former captain sounded like he was dragging him away from something important. Now that he was here, he looked glad for the reprieve. Haron moved to get out of his chair, but Bailey waved him off. "What's this all about?" The dark bags underneath Bailey's eyes showed that moving up in the world wasn't all it was made out to be. Playing catch up with the work Executor Palin left behind hadn't sat well with the human. He was more irritated than usual these days, trying to decide if he was going to transfer his base of operations or not. Haron wouldn't have bothered him if it wasn't urgent.

"There's a situation with Krios."

"When isn't there a situation with Krios?"

"This time, it's serious. His might have blown his cover." Bailey looked slightly more interested now, as he cocked a brow. Haron told him the whole sorted story, the way it had been told to him, leaving out the last bit that explained how he'd come to know all this. When he was done, Bailey didn't bat an eye. He turned his attention to the paperwork scattered on the desk, regarding it with a sneer. Haron suspected he snuck back here to try to get some work done, or when he needed some peace and quiet.

"So, what do you suppose we do about it?" the commander said, once the bit of paperwork knew exactly what he thought of it.

"Can he be transferred?" But even as Haron voiced it, he knew it wasn't an option.

"You know what our prison system looks like. We don't _do_ transfers. As big as this place is, and as big as the prisons are, it would be difficult to try to find an open bed. Hell, there's probably a new body in his bed right now." Bailey ran a hand through his hair, a grim hum emanating from him, a clear sign that he was thinking hard about the matter. "Where's he staying now?"

Haron's mandibles clamped tightly to his jaw. He wasn't sure of the protocol on such things, but he knew his answer would sound...funny, but he didn't see away around avoiding it. "He's back at my apartment. He turned up on my doorstep after the beating."

"I see," Bailey nodded, knowingly. Haron wondered what it was that the human thought he knew, exactly. "The best I can do is seeing if the Spiral Arms would take him back. Letting him stay there seems like the best option, unless, of course, you have some sort of moral objection?"

This was a bad idea. Haron should protest, and fuss, but when it came down to it, his hands were tied, again. Kolyat had no place left to go. If he wound up dead Haron didn't want his blood on his hands...Or so he tried to convince himself. Kolyat fostered some sort of affection for the officer, and Haron wanted to believe that it was just an innocent crush. He saw the drell as a kid, even though he was nearly as tall as he was, and could throw back booze like nobody's business. Besides all of that, Haron couldn't reciprocate. He wasn't attracted to drell... not that he'd be around enough to tell, really. He wasn't attracted to _this_ drell. Not really...OK, a little, but not enough to warrant this being a hazardous situation... This was the opposite of what he should be thinking.

Haron shook his head. There was no way he could say no.

"Good. After that, he's on his own. I'm not sure how much use I'll have for him after this, anyway." Bailey leaned back in his chair, picked up a stay paper and laid it back down on the desk. "He couldn't be safer living with a cop, eh?"

Haron clamped his teeth together. If Bailey only knew.

The commander slid down in his chair and swung his booted feet onto the desk. He tucked his head between his shoulders and yawned widely. "If there's nothing else, lock the door on your way out."


	7. Nekyia Corridor

Kolyat had never considered himself lucky before, but recent events were starting to change his mind.

He had fouled up an assassination attempt without having to go to jail, he was basically a snitch and hadn't been found out, yet. He had taken the beating of his life, and survived. Yet the event he considered the luckiest was that he was still in Haron's apartment.

He didn't know what had come over him, when he kissed the turian. One minute, he was listening to Haron talk about one thing or another, and the next thing he knew, he was planting one on him, full on the lips or lip plates or whatever turians had. Saying he had done it to shut him up would be a stretch, and it was nowhere near true. Kolyat didn't know why he did it, but in that brief instant, it was all he'd wanted. That, and to curl up next to Haron on the couch and sleep, but he could think of a few things wrong with that idea. Haron had looked as shocked as a turian could when he'd pulled away, and it was then that Kolyat knew that he'd made a mistake. Before he could apologize, Haron had started talking so quickly, his translator struggled to keep up.

The next day when Haron glazed over that part of the evening when they'd discussed their plans. Kolyat wasn't sure if he was relieved or hurt. The kiss has caught them both by surprise, and neither seemed to know how to deal with it. If Haron was going to act like it hadn't happened, it would probably be best if he didn't make waves. That said, he was determined not to fuck up for as long as he could manage, even if that meant sitting here, bored. It wasn't like he could do much, anyway with his fat eye and a broken rib. He hadn't even bothered with getting dressed. The apartment was at a good temperature, and it wasn't like anyone would see him, so he felt no need.

Two hours of lying on the couch, skimming trash television later, he couldn't take it anymore. Haron asked him not to leave, so he wouldn't. There had to be something around that could occupy him.

Poking around on Haron's terminal probably wasn't a good idea. It was invasive, and Haron probably wouldn't appreciate it. He remembered he wanted to keep the contents of his terminal a secret from his aunt. He kept repeating these things to himself as he sat down in front of it.

There was no password, so it was easy enough to get in, but the contents of the computer didn't even make his attempt at snooping feel worth it. No incriminating pictures, no oddly named folders, no telltale hyperlinks. How could one person be so bland? There were a few games installed, but nothing Kolyat could look at without it throwing up flags.

Kolyat moved to shut the system down, but stopped when a folder caught his eye. There, staring at him from the trash was a folder labeled _Vacation._

Kolyat's mouth twitched. He shouldn't do this. It was obviously something personal and...

Click.

The folder popped open and populated the screen with thumbnail. They were from a vacation that Haron went on with an asari who must have been Shatira. She was a pale blue speckled with purples and pinks. She was pretty to look at, even for an asari, and seemed to know it. They were at some tropical resort, with sand and sea in the background. It reminded Kolyat of Kahje a little bit, not that he got to spend much time on its beaches.

In nearly every picture of her, and there were a lot of them, Shatira smiled, trying to charm whomever was holding the camera. Haron, for his part was just...there. He didn't look thrilled, but he didn't look upset. When he did smile, with mandibles spread apart and eyes squinted to half their size, it looked like Shatira had forced him. He didn't look happy. But kicking up his feet, on a beach, with a beautiful mate, why wouldn't he?

Kolyat shut down the terminal, feeling very guilty. He shouldn't have seen that, but he had. He couldn't recall _ever_ seeing Haron happy, really happy. Not at the end of one of their projects, not at the end of the day, when he got to come back here. He didn't look particularly sad, but it was rare for him to smile. His emotional register seemed to be a blank, bland, beige.

He had a good job, family, a girlfriend, and even without her, the first two things were still pretty good. What was stopping him? Haron was sociable enough around the office, but more than once, Kolyat witnessed other officers inviting Haron out, but he always declined. That night he'd saved Kolyat from eating a punch, was he there alone?

Why did he even care?

Kolyat pushed up from the desk and walked over to Haron's shelves, packed with datapads and little action figures. Some of them he recognized off hand, most of the human ones, he didn't. Kolyat thumbed through datapads, arranged neatly on each shelf. He took one down and flipped through its table of contents. This one had several books on it by authors who sounded human: Steinbeck, Orwell, and King. Kolyat put it back on the shelf. He was noticing a trend here.

He searched through the datapads until he found a few that bore names he was familiar with, and brought them over to the couch. He'd seen _Nekyia Corridor_ in theatres, just like everyone else in Citadel space, but the novelization was better.

He'd read it through two times before, on various shuttle rides, but that didn't stop him from sitting down to read it a third time. He knew what would happen, and how it would end, but something about sharing the experiences with the characters made him want to read it all over again.

He read until his eyes started to sting. He set the book aside, and went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. Without the distraction of the book, Kolyat's mind immediately went back to his current predicament. What else but luck could have stuck him together with Haron? Any other officer probably wouldn't keep tabs on him. Any other officer wouldn't have let him in after the trouble he'd gotten himself into. Anoy ther officer wouldn't have cared... So why did he?

The front door opened, rescuing him from himself. He toweled his face dry and headed out to meet Haron. The turian stooped over next to the couch, looking at the stack of datapads Kolyat had left there. Haron straightened as Kolyat entered the room. His gaze ran over the drell, before centering on his face.

"Welcome back." Kolyat spoke first, to try to cut the tension. As he came around the couch, Haron gathered up the datapads from the floor.

"I see you've been busy," Haron said, once he had found his voice.

"Yeah... Sorry. I would have asked, but I don't have your comm number." Or a comm….

"No big deal. I just ask that you keep them off the floor, though." Haron sat on the couch and placed the datapads on the coffee table. He picked up the one Kolyat had been reading, and skimmed it. "Nekyia, huh?"

Kolyat flopped into Haron's armchair, that wasn't as comfortable as it looked. "It's a good story."

"Oh, it is, it is. I just didn't peg you as the type." Haron bit off the last word, realizing his faux pas.

"What 'type' did you peg me as?" Kolyat figured he didn't really mean anything by it, but it still stung. He probably saw him the same way everyone else seemed to; just some thick, boneheaded—

"You just strike me as a man of action. You seem like you'd rather be on the move, rather than...read." He added, "You could have just watched it."

"You can't move all the time. It wasn't practical to bring a holo projector with me. It could have been stolen. I didn't have an omintool." Not to mention he couldn't afford one. Why did it seem that all their conversations came back around to point out just how much he lacked? He pressed on. "Datapads are easy to shove into the bottom of a bag, and there's plenty of open domain stuff floating around the extranet." Kolyat shrugged. "And sometimes I like to use my imagination. What's your excuse?"

"Me?" The question caught the officer off guard, and Kolyat couldn't help delighting in his confusion. If this was the real Haron, where did that cock-sure facade he put on at the station come from?

"I never would have pegged _you_ as the type to have the movie, the book of the movie, and the poster. You've got a lot of things I never would have suspected." Kolyat gestured to the wall hangings that were tasteful and ridiculous at once. A promotional poster for _Blasto the Jellyfish Stings_ hung on the wall between two large windows, another for _Nekyia_ _Corridor_ clung to the opposite wall _._ While beautifully done, they looked painfully out of place with the carefully chosen furniture, which smacked of an asari's influence. The posters had probably gone up after she'd left. It was hard to imagine there was such a huge gap between the officer he was outside, and the geek he was in his home.

"I don't need an excuse. It's my apartment; I'll put what I want in it," Haron huffed, indignant.

"Yes, sir," Kolyat said with an imitation of the salute he'd seen C-Sec officers give their betters. Blue-gray eyes narrowed in annoyance, and Kolyat tried not to laugh aloud.

"I've got some news," Haron said, purposely ignoring Kolyat's triumphant grin. "I cleared up your living situation."

"Oh," Kolyat said crestfallen. He had hoped he could stay a little longer. Haron's was the first decent place he'd stayed since he'd left his relatives, and started out on his ill-fated quest to find answers. Thinking back on it now, he should have stayed where he was. He made a mental note of where his belongings were. When Haron said the word, he'd try his best to get out of his way with a minimum of fuss. He just hoped he'd at least let him spend one more night. "So where am I headed?" He tried to sound nonchalant about the whole affair. He knew he should be lucky he stayed this long.

"Bailey thinks it would be best if you stayed here."

Kolyat looked over at Haron, surprised he'd even told Bailey that he was in his place to begin with. "What do _you_ think?"

Haron watched him, his face as neutral as Kolyat had ever seen it. He clicked his teeth together in what Kolyat suspected was agitation. "It's alright."

Kolyat wasn't convinced. Haron's mandibles flapped like tiny wings along his jaw, in a way that Kolyat had never seen before. When their eyes met, Haron quickly looked away, staring at the stack of datapads.

"If you don't want me here, I'll go." Kolyat had no idea where he would go, but if Haron didn't want him here, he wouldn't stay. He felt guilty enough for all Haron had done for him so far, he didn't want to be more of an inconvenience to him if he could help it. Besides, Kolyat would probably make a terrible housemate.

"I'm okay with it, really." Haron cleared his throat, finally looking at Kolyat again. His expression softened; his mandibles stilled and his teeth didn't click together this time. Kolyat relaxed. "Since you'll be here for a while," Haron said, returning to his normal self, "we're going to have to lay down a couple of rules." Kolyat raised a disapproving brow to have Haron ignored it. "But first things first; we've got to you off this couch before you wear a permanent groove in it."

They went to the one door in the apartment that had remained closed since Kolyat had come there. The door glided open and the two were met with a mound of discarded clothes, old OSDs, and about a million shoes all covered in a fine layer of dust. A private terminal and all its peripherals were set against a wall.

"This was a guestroom at some point, but Shatira used it as her workspace. She considered herself a designer or celebrity dresser or something. I don't know what she goes by now, though." He shrugged. Haron didn't seem keen on talking about her, or himself much, so Kolyat had never asked, but now that he was talking, Kolyat let him, trying to glean what he could from their conversation. Haron nodded towards the mess. "I figure it's about time to get rid of this stuff, and you can stay in here." Haron put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the room. "I know there's a bed buried in here somewhere."

Guilt zipped through Kolyat again. This looked like a huge undertaking, and they were going to do this, now, just so he could stay here? "I'm fine on the couch."

Haron sighed. "We've been over this. Anything I do for you, I do because I want to, not because I'm obligate." He crouched down and rooted through a box with large, black and green feathers poking out of it. "It's not like I'm going to do all this work myself. You'll have to earn it. Now help me move that machine out of here." Kolyat didn't argue again.

A few tiring hours later, all of Shatira's things were boxed and in the foyer by the front door, and Kolyat was alone in the room, h _is_ room. He hadn't had a space he could call his own in a long time. To have the feeling again actually felt pretty good.

He flopped back against the fresh sheets and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. They had discussed a few rules over dinner: Kolyat could do whatever he wanted to make the room his own: that meant painting, hanging posters, whatever he needed. He could use the terminal, too, if he wanted, after Haron cleaned it out. The information on it was probably no longer relevant, anyway.

In the morning, Haron would add Kolyat's profile to the security system so he could come and go as he pleased, so long as he was back by the curfew the Spiral Arms had set.

Kolyat didn't think he'd be staying here with Haron long enough to feel at home, but the invitation made him hopeful, despite the voice in his head warning him otherwise.

Drifting off to sleep where he'd collapsed, he had a smile on his face.


	8. The Supernova and the Star

Living with Kolyat had turned out to be easier than Haron would have guessed. Kolyat was surprisingly a good houseguest; he picked up behind himself, he wasn't noisy. More than once Haron had forgotten he was even there until he poked his head into the living area. Life was pleasant and uneventful for those first two weeks, just as Haron had hoped. So why did something feel so off?

Whether it was because they had hardly seen each other, or simply a misunderstanding, there had been no other incidents. Kolyat hadn't kissed him again, and Haron had successfully woken up alone every morning, much to his disappointment. No, disappointment wasn't the right word, but it was what best fit his feelings. He had been expecting Kolyat to slip. To get too close, and linger too long, but he hadn't. It wasn't that Haron fancied himself irresistible, or that he thought Kolyat was a walking ball of out of control hormones, but there was something there. Some sort of undercurrent in the few times they'd spent together that made him _feel_ it was going to happen, not that he would know what to do if it did. Maybe he just didn't like being wrong.

"Hey." As if by magic, Kolyat was suddenly at his side, glaring up at him irritably. When he got Haron's attention, he quickly looked away. "You're letting all the cold out."

"What?"

"The fridge. " Kolyat knocked against the door Haron's hand rested on. Haron could remember feeling hungry when he was laying down in his room, but not when he'd actually made his way to the kitchen. He'd been standing there long enough for his thighs to get cold.

"Are you getting something or not?"

"I'm not sure yet." Haron was still trying to figure out how he'd gotten there in the first place.

"Then let me get something out before it all goes bad," Kolyat huffed. He quickly slipped into the gap between Haron and the shelves.

Common sense would dictate that Haron should have moved out of the way, but he seemed to be in short supply of that today. He watched as the drell crouched down in front of him like a pyjack and began rooting through the fridge. In the fluorescent light, his skin looked more vibrant, making the contrast between the dark patches and the rest stand out more. Haron let his eyes follow the dark mark that went down the back of Kolyat's neck and vanished beneath his shirt, reappearing on the backs of his arms. In the interest of keeping his bed drell-free, Haron kept the heat turned up just enough that they were both comfortable. Since Kolyat had found that favorable, he didn't vest up as he did when he was out in the wards. It was interesting to see him without his usual jacket, or even shoes. "You want something while I'm down here?" Kolyat asked, glancing over his shoulder, and Haron couldn't help feeling a little guilty. He shook his head as he struggled to determine if that question was meant to be as suggestive as it sounded.

"I'm going out in a bit... I'll eat something then."

Kolyat rose to his feet in one swift movement maintaining his balance without as much as a wobble. Then, he spun on the ball of one foot and faced Haron.

"Then you won't mind if I close this?" Finally, Haron stepped back and released the door, letting Kolyat shut the appliance. His fingers cracked as he flexed, recovering from the death grip he'd had on the door.

Haron took a seat at the counter that separated the living room and kitchen and watched, transfixed as Kolyat bit into one of the bright orange fruits he rescued from the fridge. He bit into it roughly, sending juice dribbling down his chin and neck. Haron knew very well that even with a dose of epinephrine, the smallest amount of levo food would make him ill, if it didn't do him in, but spirits, what he would give to taste that fruit. To be that fruit.

That wasn't the thought of someone who wasn't interested, nor were any of the thoughts he had had in the last ten minutes. But that didn't stop him from continuing. He watched with rapt attention while that fruit disappeared, and Kolyat started on another. The juice that well up on his clavicle looked painfully inviting. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose. No one was that messy.

The fruit reduced to nothing but large pits, Kolyat finally noticed Haron. "I didn't get any on the couch," he said. Haron was sure it was supposed to sound reassuring, but it sounded more annoyed. Haron simply nodded, unable to think around the overwhelming feeling that he'd just been caught red-handed

As an adult turian, Haron had... explored his sexuality, creating a mental list of turn-ons. He'd watched a lot of vids, both on his own and on other's recommendation, that were supposed to be titillating, but nothing had caught his attention in this way since...well, ever. And he wasn't even sure what about the scene was so interesting. He'd seen people eat before, sloppily, usually accompanied by lots of loud smacking. He'd seen his fair share of asari do it, too, in the more fetishy section of Fornax, out of simple curiosity... but it was nothing like this. Kolyat hadn't been trying to be alluring, like they had. He was just enjoying his food. Haron felt his reaction bordered on down right inappropriate.

Kolyat folded up the towel he had beside him and mopped himself up, and only Haron's multitude of personal inquiries kept him from rushing into the living room and helping Kolyat clean up in a more time consuming, less efficient way.

This wasn't like him...

Kolyat reentered the kitchen, and rinsed his hands off under the faucet. "So where are you headed?" he asked over the sounds of the running water.

When Haron had given that excuse, it was for lack of a better one. He'd intended on staying in, but that was starting to seem like a bad idea. He leaned away from Kolyat as casually as he could, the counter digging into the small of his back.

"Ah, brunch with my sister." Kaean had sent him a message that she'd be on the Citadel this week, if he was interested and free. And right now he wanted nothing more. "I'm meeting with Kaean," he reiterated so it felt less like a lie, and it wouldn't be, as soon as he called her.

-~xXx~-

Haron had never set up one of their brunches, and Kaen was tickled that he actually made the effort this time. She ended up picking the venue, and all Haron had to do was show up. Haron was fine with her taking the lead. If nothing else, it made her happy.

The place she'd chosen was swankier than Haron was used to, but a little change was good. He'd arrived on time, but she had been early, sequestering them a nice private table near the back. They greeted each other briefly, and as he sat down a drink was set in front of him. He sighed at his sister's ability to micromanage.

"I never would have expected you to call me without threat of bodily harm," she smiled at him, and a chill ran down his spine.

"Well, y'know...Maybe I thought it was time to change that."

"And maybe something else is going on," she said knowingly. "How's your drell friend?"

"He's okay," Haron said, knowing it would be futile to pretend like he didn't know who she meant. He tasted the drink. It wasn't something he'd had before, but it didn't taste too bad. Slightly bitter with a crisp finish.

"Have you slept with him yet?" Haron sputtered into his drink. "I'll take that as a no, but you want to."

"Kaean!" He wiped up the droplets of wine, nodding apologetically to the other diners.

"Am I wrong? That's probably the reason you're here in the first place."

"I knew this was a mistake," Haron said as he pushed up from the table. "I'm not sure what made me think I should talk to you."

"I'm not judging you, brother. Sit back down," Kaean folded her hands neatly in her lap. Her face seemed as impassive as it always had, but something in her tone made Haron think she meant it. "Please."

Haron sat back down warily. Kaean flagged down their waiter and ordered for both of them. "Now, why don't you start at the beginning?" And Haron did. He told her how Kolyat had come to be in his apartment the second time, having got his ass handed to him by a bunch of criminals, Bailey's suggestion that he stay there, and the predicament he now found himself in.

"He also kissed me," Haron added as an afterthought. He wasn't going to tell Kaean at first, but he figured if he wanted her help, it'd be best if she got the full scope of the situation. "That night when he first came to my door and I patched him up. And before you start, I did look it up. It's not some sort of cultural misunderstanding. When someone with lips kisses you, it generally means the same thing."

"I see," Kaean said, delicately sipping at her drink. If there was anyone else Haron could have turned to have this conversation, he would have. Though he and Kaean didn't always see eye-to-eye, he knew that she wouldn't tell anyone what he had to say, not that he was sure it was something to hide. It was his business, and not something he'd want everyone down at the station to know. "How did you feel about it?"

"What? The kiss?" Kissing had been one of Haron's favorite things about dating non-turians. He recalled what it had felt like, a light tickling sensation, but it had been pleasant. It always reminded him of the other things lips could do. Haron looked sheepishly down at his drink, sudden feeling like this line of thought was inappropriate to be having while sitting across from his sister. "It was alright, I guess." He tried to sound neutral, but he knew the undertones betrayed him. He was almost thirty years old. Why the Hell was he getting embarrassed?

"You enjoyed it then?"

"Do you really want to know?" Kaean shrugged. It had been unexpected, but surprisingly sweet and innocent. "Yes."

"Then, An'ur my love, what is the problem exactly? You're attracted to him, from what you've said, he seems to like you. Why not sleep with him and be done with it?"

"It's not about that." It had never been about that. Yes, Haron was finally coming to terms with the fact that he was attracted to Kolyat, and not just drell at large, but it was more than just how he looked.

"So you love him, then?"

"It's not as easy as black and white as you're trying to make it seem, Kaean."

"Then tell me how it is." Haron had feelings for Shatira, and the ones who'd come before her. He'd thought it was love. But it hadn't been like this. He found with more frequency, he thought about Kolyat, even to just wonder what he was doing. If he was upset, or if he'd eaten properly. Silly, stupid little things. Even when he'd stepped into the restaurant, he'd wondered how Kolyat would like the place. "You don't have to tell me," Kaean said once she decided he'd sweat enough. She sat across the table from him, looking like the varren that ate the pyjak. "But I think you know the answer for yourself, and that's what counts."

Haron put his head in his hands. He knew this was a bad idea. "It's not that big a deal really," Kaean tried for soothing, but it came out a little too condescending. He'd all but admitted that he'd developed feelings for someone many years his junior, and of a different species, and it wasn't that big a deal? He turned and looked at her solemnly. "I'm just not at all surprised." Her mandibles twitched slightly as she sipped at her drink. "You _are_ my brother, after all, and I had an inkling of what your preference might be. When all the other boys were hanging pictures of whatever turian or asari model was popular at the time on their walls, you had a bunch of alien actors from... What was that old movie? _Stars Wars_? I knew it was only a matter of time before you actually got your hands on something more exotic than an asari.

"I'm just glad he's not a human. Imagine what Dad would think then. Don't worry; I'm not going to tell him."

"Yeah, thanks for that." Haron took a long sip of his drink, and turned the glass in his hands. "But I can't help feeling like this is... y'know, weird."

"Is it any weirder than the rest of your xeno fetish?"

Haron winced. When you got to the core of it, _fetish_ seemed like the right word to use, but it still sounded bad. Things that didn't originate on Palaven or its territories didn't interest him as much as things from far away. That went for people, too. It wasn't that he sought out other races. It just happened. This was the first time he'd found himself interested in someone who was male. "I suppose not, but it's not like you didn't give me Hell about that for most of my life."

Kaean looked shamefaced. "Well, I was wrong. It didn't make you any less of a turian, like they tried to tell us, and I do apologize for that."

"Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?"

"I mean it, An'ur. I truly am sorry for all the guff I gave you about the things you liked, except for Shatira. I knew she was no good for you."

"Yeah, you're right there." He scoffed, looking taking another sip. The drink seemed to get better the more of it he imbibed.

"But in all seriousness, what else is the problem?"

Haron shrugged. "All my life, I felt like everything I liked was wrong. There are a lot of things that could be seen as questionable, and I just don't know what I should feel."

"Things like what?"

"He's not a turian."

Kaean nodded. "Right, we've been over that."

"He's too young for me."

"How young is _too young_?"

"I don't know." Haron didn't even know for sure how old Kolyat was, but going by his attitude, Haron assumed pretty young. However, no good ever came of assumptions.

"Is he legally able to live on his own? Work a job? Pay taxes?"

"Yes, but..." Before he'd tried to kill Talid, Kolyat had been scraping by doing whatever odd jobs he could find, living in a week-to-week tenement. He hadn't been on the Citadel long before he'd found Mouse, and everything went to shit from there. He hadn't made good decisions, but that wasn't a trait exclusive to the young.

"Then he sounds old enough to determine that this is what he wants. Age didn't seem like it made a difference when you were dating Shatira, and you were the younger party." He hated it when she was right. "Besides, you seem to care for him, and you wouldn't take advantage of him."

The age difference could have been less than the gap between Haron and the woman who was now giving him a dressing down. Yet a lot of the time, it felt greater. Haron was comfortably settled into the job he'd have in the coming years, yet Kolyat was still drifting aimlessly, though Haron would be the first to say that it wasn't the his fault.

"Why are you looking so hard for something to be wrong with this?" The question gave Haron pause. Haron had spent most of his life with a target on his back. The things that he openly liked and wanted had made him the object of much ridicule and hostility. So he over-compensated. While there were areas where he couldn't compromise, Haron made concessions where he could, leading as unobtrusive an existence as possible, trying in vain to live up to what he'd been taught a turian should be. But to what end?

He'd spent his life trying to make a square peg fit in a round hole, and didn't have much to show for it other than being miserable and alone.

"I don't really know," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

"You should really give it some thought," Kaean said solemnly.

Relieved as he was that his sister hadn't raised a fuss about this news, it was severely out of character for her, and that alone was raising red flags.

"You're taking this surprisingly well," a little _too_ well. "What gives?"

"Hm?" Kaean said, busying herself with her drink. Something was definitely amiss.

"Kaean..." Haron said, lowering his voice to a threatening baritone.

His sister's hands twitched nervously around her drink. "You may not be alone in your...endeavors."

Haron sat there, flabbergasted, staring at his sister who had never looked more like a stranger. "You don't mean..." Kaean lowered her eyes. "What about Mikael and the kids?"

"Mikael and I have been living separate lives for years, and the kids are too young know what's going on. It wouldn't look right for the prospective head of Rocam to be living the single life when his platform is all about maintaining the infrastructure." She smiled weakly, stirring her drink. Having a wife who dallied with aliens seemed worse to Haron, but he didn't feel it was his place to comment on matters he knew nothing about.

"Well. That's very 'supernova calling the star bright' of you."

"I know..." Kaean said, looking him in the eyes. "It wasn't fair of me to chasten you and make you feel bad about following your feelings, when I was only denying my own. And for that I'm truly sorry."

Haron couldn't recall his sister apologizing for anything, ever. She'd always used the greater good as her platform while she was putting him down and ratting him out. Now, the "greater good" seemed to have abandoned her. This new occurrence only served to show how fucked the natural order of things had become in the last few days. Or more like, the natural order had been fucked all along, he was just seeing it for the first time.

But Haron wouldn't leave her hanging. "So who is it that's stolen my sister's heart?"

"Her name's Milon. She's an asari."

That had been about what Haron had expected and he nodded silently. "Am I right in assuming she lives on the Citadel?"

Kaean's head bobbed in surprise, as she tried to keep from choking on her drink. "How did you...?"

"You were never the doting type before. I figured the change had to be for a reason."

"Fair enough. But I really did miss you."

"Me too." The rest of the brunch was the easiest they'd ever had. After having said their goodbyes at the transit hub, Kaean lingered.

"I meant every word I said about Kolyat... and about you. Don't stand in the way of your own happiness because life's too short to spend it sulking."

"Y-yeah," Haron stammered, embarrassed to be getting such a stern talking to from his younger sister. "I'll think about it."

She leaned up on her toes and wrapped her arms around him. "You'd better." She hugged him tightly before sliding into the seat of the waiting cab. "I'll see you in two weeks!"

-~xXx~-

"How was brunch?" Kolyat asked as he removed his feet from the coffee table with a speed Haron didn't think he possessed.

"It was enlightening," Haron said with no amount of sarcasm. He wasn't sure where he stood yet, but his sister made some valid points. She was right about a lot of things. He had to get over himself eventually and figure out what he wanted.

"And that's…good?"

Haron sat at the other end of the couch and eased back into it. Talking with Kaean had actually relieved some of his tension. "It's good."

Kolyat nodded. That answer was enough for him. "Bailey called while you were out." He paused as if searching his memory. "He said we're definitely on for tomorrow: different venue from what he chose last time, but the same deal as usual. He sent you a private message with the details."

Haron checked his omnitool, and decided to read the message in the morning. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Kolyat shrugged. "It beats picking up garbage. Besides, it won't be forever." That was true. He had little more than a month left and then he'd be a free man with a clean record.

"What are you going to do once this is over?"

The drell spent all of two seconds on the thought before giving another shrug. "Get a job and a place. I'm sure you want me out of your way as soon as possible."

"A job doing what?" Haron pressed, ignoring the latter part of the statement.

Another shrug. "Why the sudden interest in my future?"

"It's not sudden, exactly, but I was just curious. In a month, you'll be able to return to a normal life."

Kolyat snorted. "Whatever that means."

"Well, take your time." Haron stood up and stretched. "We've got a busy day tomorrow, so I'm going to call it a night. We can talk more once this is done."

"Yeah. Hey, Haron? Thanks for this. For everything."

Two weeks ago, if you'd asked for this sort of sentiment, you'd have thought you'd asked the drell to lop off his arm. Now he was giving it freely, without looking sick about it. Haron couldn't stop his mandibles from parting in a grin. "Don't mention it."


	9. Quick, Fast, and In A Hurry

Everything went south fast. One minute Kolyat was sitting at the bar, nursing a drink he didn't really want while Haron glared on from the shadows, the next he was being dragged off his stool, forced through a sea of bodies. He considered calling out for Haron but thought better of it. If whoever had him didn't know about Haron, he'd be safe, and maybe even call for back up.

Shoved out the back door, he staggered backwards, barely able to stay on his feet. He got his bearings enough to realize he was in some dingy side street that ran behind the bar. Strong hands forced him to his knees, holding his arms out straight behind him. This job was supposed to be easy, but he should have known better. Since he'd come to the Citadel nothing was ever as easy as it seemed.

"This him?" A gruff voice said as Kolyat struggled to get a good look at him.

The pressure eased off his shoulders enough for him to look straight ahead, bringing him face-to-gruesome-face with Pham. Kolyat couldn't have been gone from the Spiral Arms more than a month, but the human had changed a lot during that time. He looked like he hadn't sleep properly in weeks. His breath reeked of alcohol and sick. His teeth were varying shades of red and brown.

Pham reached down and rubbed the collar of Kolyat's jacket between thumb and forefinger. "Fancy clothes... And looks like you've been eating well." Pham laughed, blowing acrid air in the drell's face. It was the same old clothes that Kolyat had always had. "Being a snitch has really agreed with you, Krios." Kolyat couldn't think of a retort to that that made sense. He could lie and tell them they had the wrong guy, but it didn't seem like it would make a difference to these thugs at this point.

Thugs surrounded him on all sides: At least two bruisers were behind him, holding him in place, one on each side of him, Pham in front, and someone stood just behind him in the shadows. Kolyat figured he was the one who had spoken first. The man came forward and put a packet and a few credit chits in Pham's sweaty hands. This man dressed like he had a lot of money, but didn't know what to do with it. The type that sat in the back of clubs, bought the most expensive alcohol, had the prettiest people around him, and still managed to look bored.

"Looks like you're coming up in the world, Pham. Selling people out for dope, just when I thought you couldn't you could get any uglier." Pham looked torn between retaliating and running away with his prize. Kolyat was lucky he chose the latter and disappeared towards the mouth of the alley.

"So C-Sec's sending drell in to gather information now?" The man sniffed, wiping his hands on a handkerchief. Kolyat had seen hanar with more personality, and they didn't have faces. "That seems pretty silly. It doesn't get more conspicuous than one of you."

"We've got a knack for blending into the background. Think..." Kolyat quickly searched his memory for the right creature. "Think _chameleon_."

The human chuckled, sounding like he had a throat full of gravel. "You're a funny guy." he human moved in a blur and caught Kolyat with a booted foot. just beneath the diaphragm Pain wet his eyes as his bruised ribs screamed in protest. Kolyat coughed and sputtered, trying to draw in air. He leaned forward reflexively, but was pulled straight again. Unfortunately for you, I don't have time for funny guys." The human crouched down in front of Kolyat, who still struggled to breathe. "How long have you been doing this? Ratting my guys out to the pigs?"

"Ten years, give or take," Kolyat managed between coughs and wheezes.

"Bullshit," the man said, turning Kolyat's face to meet his. "You aren't the first drell I've met, and I've got kids older than you look, which is a shame, really." He patted the side of Kolyat's face and stood up, patting his pockets as if he were trying to remember where he'd placed his wallet. "Young guy like you, gettin' mixed up in this. You shoulda had your whole life ahead of you.

"Instead," the man pulled out a long, curved blade from an inner jacket pocket, "we've got to make an example out of you."

Kolyat thrashed, but the goons held him steady. A hand grabbed him under the jaw and forced his head back, his eyes staring at the underside of the goon's chin and the ceiling. He shut his eyes tight, unable to hear anything but his own short, panicky breaths.

He wouldn't beg because he knew it wouldn't help, and he damn sure didn't want to cry, but he could feel the tears welling up behind his lids.

He was going to die here. The list of people he'd be leaving behind was short, but that didn't make it hurt any less. He would never see his dad again, and faced with that reality, he actually wanted to. He hadn't been receptive to his father's attempts to make amends, but he swore to Arashu, if by some miracle he got out of this, he'd make a genuine effort to mend their relationship.

And Haron...He'd be by himself now, in that big empty apartment, with all of his nerdy memorabilia, and that thought alone was enough to make Kolyat sob. Haron was too good a person to waste away alone and not even realize he was doing it. Kolyat didn't want him to be alone. He wanted to stay with him.

There, he admitted it. For all the good it did him now.

He wanted to stay with Haron, even if it was just as roommates, just to see him happy like he should be. That would have been enough. But now... He wished he could have told him how he felt.

The man's hand was on Kolyat's throat now, and he swallowed down bile. If they just wanted to kill him, they would have shot him, quick and painless. This... This was going to hurt, and would probably be slow and...

"Oh, excuse me," some unfortunate soul muttered as they pushed open the back door. "I thought this was the restroom."

The human at Kolyat's neck sighed. "As you can see, it's not. So why don't you turn around and forget you were here?"

Kolyat wanted to scream for help, but if they were giving this guy a chance to get away with his life, he'd probably take it and never breathe a word of what he saw to anyone. But, the door never closed behind the lost bar patron, and soon gunshots erupted from overhead. Kolyat opened his eyes in time to see the goons that had been holding him drop like flies, leaving the leader holding the bag.

The alley was swarming with C-Sec blues, and the gang leader looked as confused as Kolyat did. Seeing his chance, Kolyat reared back and head butted the human, but his aim was off. Their heads collided awkwardly and painfully, but the human was the worst for the impact. He sprawled out in the muck, ruining his fancy clothes, blood gushing from a broken nose.

As Kolyat rose, rubbing his throbbing forehead, Haron trotted over to him. Kolyat had never been so happy to see a cop in his life. Aside from being overwhelmed, he was glad to be alive. He grinned weakly at Haron, who seemed too distracted to notice. Without warning he clasped a hand to Kolyat's neck so tightly it hurt. "I need a medic here!"

"Ow! What are you doing?" Kolyat tried to squirm away, but he suddenly felt lightheaded. Something warm and wet soaked into his jacket collar. He reached up to investigate, but his arms felt like lead. His fingers were stained red when he finally brought his hand in front of his face.

"Is that...blood?"

Then everything went black.

-~xXx~-

Kolyat awoke groggily in Haron's apartment. He was tucked into bed, having been relieved of his bloody clothes. He spied them, balled up, in the bin by the door, his boots, the only salvageable part of his outfit besides his shorts were neatly placed beside the bed.

He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, but waking up at home, compared to other places, was a good sign. He rolled out of bed, and went to the window, as he had taken to doing when he needed to think.

His mind reeled, going over his memories in attempt to figure out what went wrong. He'd gone from Haron's apartment, to some sketchy dives, and then finally to the bar. He didn't think anyone could have been tailing him, since no one knew where he was living. So why?

Pham had fingered him as the guy they were looking for, so how could they have known? A wave of nausea washed over him. He'd almost died today because he couldn't throw away a goddamn paper. How could he have been so stupid?

He thumped his fist against the window frame, and leaned his head on the glass. He'd add this to his list of failures. He'd failed as a would be assassin, he'd failed as a would be informant. It seemed like no matter what side of the law he was on, he couldn't do anything right.

The omni-tint within the windows dimmed the brightness of the city outside enough for him to see his reflection in the glass. The wound on his neck was cleaned and dressed, but the covering was bigger than he'd thought it would be. He started to peel back the gauze to take a look, when the door opened up behind him.

"I wouldn't don't that, if I were you." Haron stepped in, and Kolyat couldn't turn to look at him. They were both lucky to have made it out of there alive, and if not for Haron's quick thinking, Kolyat would certainly be dead. "The wound wasn't fatal, but it still needs to be covered for a while." Haron settled into silence behind him, as Kolyat searched for what to say. He was sorry, that went without saying, and he was thankful. Haron had saved his life by no stretch of the imagination, and no matter how many times Kolyat thanked him or apologized, it wouldn't feel like enough. Saying it once would be a start.

"I'm sorry, Kolyat." The apology took the drell by surprise. In the glass, Kolyat could see Haron stood just behind him with his head bowed. He looked drained and defeated. "We shouldn't have let you go in there. Bailey...I knew what the risk was, but we still sent you in. It was reckless." Kolyat spun around to face him. Haron had to stop. Kolyat was the one at fault. Haron shouldn't try to take up for him. "It was all me. I should have gotten rid of the paper. I was the one who—" But Haron simply shook his head. "They already knew. The guy you tangled with already knew that a drell had been seen at the same bars his men had been apprehended in before. It was only a matter of time before they put two-and-two together and found you."

So it had all be a game of chance. Pham probably heard they were looking for drell, and he knew one. People like him sold out their own mothers if the price was right. It was a weight off Kolyat's chest to know it hadn't been his fault.

"Things could have been so much worse," Haron said gravely, stepping close to Kolyat. His kind blue eyes brimmed with regret to the point that Kolyat had to look away. "These weren't petty thugs, and you were unarmed. If we'd lost you…" Slowly he leaned forward and bumped his forehead against Kolyat's. Heat rolled off Haron and Kolyat wanted nothing more to lose himself in it. The closeness was too much. He tried to back up, but Haron pursued. If Haron stayed this close, he couldn't be held accountable for what he did. "If I'd lost you, I don't know what I would have done."

This couldn't be happening. Haron had said- but it didn't make sense. Kolyat had given up on anything happening between them, but it seemed that something had. The customs officer leaned down pressed his face in the crook of Kolyat's neck, making low, unhappy sounds when he reached the bandage. Kolyat groaned as a surge of heat flashed through him. This hardly seemed the appropriate time to be getting excited, but he couldn't help it. He was tired, and weak from blood loss and stress. He was grateful for the energy to stand, let alone keep his urges in control. He liked Haron, a lot. At times during the last month, it had been a struggle to pretend that it was strictly platonic, but right now, he didn't have it in him to fight it.

Haron paused, and for an instant Kolyat was afraid it as over. His eyes shut, he prepared for the turian to withdraw, for the apology that he had given Kolyat the wrong idea to come. He gripped onto Haron's shirt, trying to keep him close for a second more. Nudging Kolyat's head aside, Haron lapped at the uninjured side of the drell's throat. He paid particular attention to the ribbed flesh under his jaw, nibbling, nuzzling, making sounds that made Kolyat's whole body vibrate. "Fuck," Kolyat gasped, his hands balled into fist on the officer's broad shoulders. Did Haron know what this was doing to him? His hips jerked, pressing urgently against Haron, trying to relieve the tension building between his legs. All this time he'd gone with wanting, keeping a handle on himself, but now that it was actually happening, fuck did it felt good.

The turian mimicked the action with a hiss, his own arousal hard against Kolyat's leg. That was...surprising. Kolyat dug his fingers into Haron's shoulders as the turian rocked into him. Three-taloned hands explored, running over every bit of exposed skin. Frantically, Kolyat tugged on Haron's clothes, pulling his tunic up, exposing his bare midriff. He put a hand against Haron's stomach and the turian shuddered in response. He wasn't sure when things had changed, but clearly, they had. They could talk about that later. Right now, he wanted this, to be close to Haron in any and every way he would have him. He needed more. He needed-

"Haron?" A female voice echoed over the security system and they let out a collective growl of annoyance. "Haron, this is Lieutenant Nodi. I wouldn't be bothering you if it wasn't absolutely important."

Huffing with frustration, Haron detached himself from Kolyat. Taking the drell by the hand, he lead them into the hallway and towards his bedroom.

"I got to take care of this, but I'll make it quick." He nuzzled him one last time for emphasis. "Just wait for me here."

Kolyat slipped into the room, took of what was left of his clothes, and crawled into bed. Everything smelled wonderfully of Haron; the pillows, the sheets. Wrapping himself in the top sheet and buried his face in it. From the living room, he could hear hushed conversation. They seemed to be keeping it civil, so he didn't bother getting up to eavesdrop.

Kolyat waited for Haron as long as he could, but fatigue caught up with him. The bed dipping as Haron crawled into it brought Kolyat around long enough to get comfortable. He tucked his head against Haron's neck as sleep fell over him again. They didn't attempt to pick up where they'd left off, but Kolyat was OK with that. Of all the things they'd gone through this evening, Kolyat hadn't seen any of them leading to the night ending like this.


	10. Thankful

Haron blustered into the living room, trying to will his body to cooperate. Even if Nodi said it was important, there were things he'd rather be doing. "What can I do for you, lieutenant?" He hoped his agitation didn't show as he stood in the doorway. He wanted her to state her business and be gone as quickly as possible, but there was little hope of that happening.

The tall, dark blue asari stared at him; the hallway lights setting an eerie glow to her skin. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"I wasn't aware this was a social call."

"It's not," Nodi flashed the badge hanging from a thin chain around her neck. "But it is C-Sec business. I'd suggest we conduct it in the privacy of your home unless you want your neighbors to find out what exactly is up with your houseguest." She smiled, her white teeth shone brilliantly from her dark face. Haron stepped aside and let the asari in. She looked too pleased with herself.

Nodi had been angling for a reason to visit Haron's apartment for years, but he always managed to be too busy for a visit. Shatira's presence in Haron's life hadn't deterred Nodi a bit. Haron had to admit, he was a little afraid of her enthusiasm. There was no explanation for it, that he could understand. They'd worked together a few times, and through idle conversation, he found that she shared his interest in human culture, but they hadn't developed anything more than a casual acquaintance. She already had a bond-mate, another asari, to whom she was supposedly devoted.

Haron locked the door and wheeled around to find a gun pointing right between his eyes. Was Nodi on the take, here to get revenge for her boss? Haron had suspected her of quite a few things, but being a dirty cop wasn't one of them. Haron took a step back and reached for his own piece only to find his hip bare. Nodi laughed.

"You left this at the scene." She flipped the gun around so the handle was facing Haron, but kept it a few inches from his nose.

It was Haron's service pistol. The nick along the barrel, just beneath the model number, was a giveaway. But how? He'd never been forgetful, but he'd never been in the thick of the action like that before – or had his arms full of bleeding drell.

"Nice digs," Nodi said as she flopped down in the armchair.

"Thanks," Haron mumbled, sinking into the couch. "And thanks for this." He waved the gun.

"Don't mention it." Nodi picked up a datapad Kolyat left on the coffee table. "You were understandably distracted."

Haron had screamed for the medic, growing more frantic with each second that passed. It was hard for him to stand by while Johnson went to work on him, even though he was a good man and good at his job. Johnson said it wasn't as bad as it looked, and Haron was thankful for that. After the medigel had set, it would be smooth sailing. Haron was free to take him home.

Kolyat's clothes had been so caked with blood they had to be peeled from his skin. Haron stuffed them down into the bottom of the kitchen trashcan. He didn't want Kolyat to see. He wished he hadn't seen.

Bright red blood oozing from a teal neck flooded Haron's vision when he closed his eyes. He blew out a steadying breath and started to take his pistol apart. It needed to be cleaned after sitting in a gutter for hours; this was giving him a head start. Plus, busying his hands preoccupied his mind. The gun was fully dismantled and he had almost completely ridden himself of the images until Nodi asked "How is he? The kid I mean."

"He's okay," Haron said slowly. Kolyat was no longer shivering and pale as he had been when he brought him home, but he may have narrowly averted becoming much worse.

He managed to get the unconscious drell cleaned up without a single inappropriate though entering his mind. He tried not to linger over his limbs that seemed so frail in comparison to his own, so alien. He'd seen him disrobed before, but never this close. He put the drell to bed, just thankful that, for the moment, that they were out of the woods. After Kolyat woke up, that had all changed.

At first, he was elated that Kolyat was awake and alert. He went over to him to set his try to fill him in and set his mind at ease. Then something fierce and primal had taken over, something he didn't quite understand. Upon seeing his face, seeing Kolyat's face, hearing him blaming himself a strange mixture of protective instinct and need swept him up and if Nodi hadn't come, Haron didn't know where either of them would be right now.

But he said none of this to Nodi who looked at him thoughtfully."I won't keep you," she said as she stood from the chair, stretching her arms overhead. "I bet you haven't slept yet."

"I doubt I'll be able to." Haron walked her to the door. He felt stuck between consciousness and dreaming. It would be nice if all of this had just been some dream brought on by bad food.

"Try anyway. Bailey wants to see you two tomorrow for a debrief if Krios is up to it. Nothing formal, it shouldn't take too long."

Haron crawled back into bed and for the first time in a long time, found someone waiting for him. He'd forgotten he'd told Kolyat to wait for him there with the intentions of finishing what they'd started. Thinking back on it now, he realized he had no idea of how to finish. It was for the best that he was already asleep. After he'd settled in, Kolyat clung to his side as he had the last time he was in Haron's bed. It would take getting used to, but Haron wanted to get used to it. Haron turned out the light and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

They wouldn't be going to see Bailey in the morning or the next day or the day after that. Haron wasn't going to put Kolyat through anything stressful until he was fully recuperated. Bailey would have to cool his heels until then.

* * *

_a/n: Yup, this story's back after a brief- er, rather lengthy hiatus. Before posting this one, I've revamped the previous pages fixing errors, and tightening up some plot points. If you've noticed a bit of continuity error between the previous chapter 9 and this one, it's been updated. (it's something small, just the mention of where Kolyat's clothes ended up.)_

_Also, I've got more chapters than I originally intended, so look out for that e_e. Thank's for reading_


	11. How Do You Like It?

A week had passed since their failed operation and Bailey was chomping at the bit. Haron had been playing communicator tag, avoiding his calls and being slow to respond to his messages. If they didn't head down to the station soon, he ran the risk of being suspended. The idea by itself didn't bother him too much. In his six years of service, he'd only taken one vacation so he didn't mind lounging at home. He'd spent most of his time in a very unturian fashion, catching up on holoprograms he'd saved in the receiver and beating Kolyat in video games. Kolyat, on the other hand was starting to go stir crazy.

It became immediately apparent that being confined to one place for so long didn't agree with the drell. He had stayed under Haron's roof for days at a time before, but he had the option to leave when he wanted, and that made all the difference. The incident had destroyed Kolyat's last decent set of clothes left. All he had left was a pair of holey pants that had been ruined during his previous encounter with Pham. He'd resorted to borrowing some of Haron's shirts that were not made for someone with his proportions. The waist clung too tightly to his torso, the sleeves swallowed up his hands, and the oversized neck drooped, baring teal shoulders. Haron didn't really see a problem, but he understood his Kolyat's reluctance; it was fine to lie around the house like that, but to go out in public he would need something that actually fit.

Haron sat down at his terminal, ignoring another message from Bailey -and one from Nodi- to try and order some clothes online, but even that simple task couldn't be easy. Kolyat could tell you almost anything about his past down to the second, but asking him about his clothing or shoe size only got Haron a shrug. "They were my father's clothes. They had some stretch to them, so they actually fit." Haron imagined they didn't fit well. There were as a good three-inches in height between the two Krios males. "The tags were worn off anyway." It was far too late for Haron to check himself, and measuring tape wasn't among the things Shatira left behind. Finding a clothing store would settle two tasks at once.

"I can't go out like this!" The skin of Kolyat's throat darkened around the light colored scar running across it. Haron now understood this was the drell equivalent of a blush. "I look like a bum."

He hadn't realized Kolyat cared so much about his image. "It'll just be until we get to the shop," Haron said shutting down his terminal. "If it makes you feel better, you can put one of my jackets on top. It'll look like a coat, very fashionable."

"It won't make me feel any better," Kolyat griped. He was back to his usual cantankerous self.

"What's the matter," Haron teased, "don't want anyone to think we're together?"

-~xXx~-

Were they together? Kolyat had been asking himself that for days. Certainly. They were closer than they had been before the flubbed operation, but other aspects of their relationship hadn't progressed as Kolyat had hoped.

They'd been sleeping in the same bed and nothing more had happened other than some unconscious cuddling, which was nice but not what Kolyat had expected, not after the night of his accident. He didn't know what had gotten into Haron. He was positively ravenous. His intent weighed heavy in the air and Kolyat was swept up in it. He'd woken up the next morning with the scene fresh in his mind ready to pick up where they'd left off and then... nothing. What he would have done to be able to forget if only for a moment, for a day, to stop the scene from replaying in his mind whenever Haron came too close, making his body a slave to his hormones, pent up emotions and memories.

Though things had cooled off substantially, they hadn't gone completely cold. When they were awake, Haron was significantly more affectionate, pulling Kolyat into his lap to watch a movie or while they read. Kolyat was afraid that whatever had drawn them together in these last few days would start to wear off, if they went out it might be gone forever.

Kolyat balled the extra material of his sleeves in his hands. He really didn't mind wearing it, but it was Haron's. Going to the store made him feel like a charity case. Going wearing Haron's clothes would make everyone else think it too. But he really had no other choice. "I don't care what other people think," Kolyat lied, "I guess it isn't that big a deal…"

"Then we can go whenever you're ready."

Aside from convenience stores, Kolyat had never done any real shopping on the Citadel. It differed greatly from the stores he and his mother visited on Kahje. To a child's eyes those shops seemed big, strange and imposing. Cleek blew them all away.

The store seemed to stretch on for the width of the station with rack upon rack of clothes going on forever. There was every conceivable color and purpose separated by species and gender. The section for drell was conspicuously absent.

"Welcome to Cleek," a well-dressed turian approached them as soon as they stepped over the threshold, all smiles. He looked as if he shopped there himself. His nametag identified him as Jereth. "What can I help you with today?" He barely acknowledged Kolyat when he spoke, pouring all of his focus on Haron.

"We need to get a few outfits for him." Haron clapped a hand on K's shoulder. Jereth hesitated a moment, his gaze flitting from Haron's hand, to Kolyat's face and then back to Haron. The look on his face was mistakable even for a turian: unabashed shock.

-~xXx~-

Haron always had a problem with turians who wore their heart on their sleeves. Facial expression could easily mean the difference between life and death on a battlefield, not that anyone in his generation had seen any actual combat. Besides that, it was just rude. He was certain odder pairs than a turian and drell had come in here-OK, maybe not, but still. He was a turian. Where was his sense of propriety, of professionalism? Haron bristled under Jareth's scrutiny, but kept his thoughts to himself and his face neutral as he watched the other turian.

"I see," Jereth said slowly as his mind struggled to do the math. "Unfortunately, we don't have any drell specific clothing in stock at the moment. I could always take down your information and have it delivered."

"That would be helpful. However, he needs something he can wear today."

"Of course." Jereth led them towards the human section of the store. "Human and drell body types are so alike we should be able to find something that fits better than what he's wearing now," Jereth said with some distaste. Haron could really do without the commentary or the faces. Why they were here was none of Jereth's business and didn't affect him other than possibly getting him some commission. Commission he might miss out on if he didn't learn to control his face or his tongue.

Haron nudged Kolyat. His silence was giving their relationship some weird master/slave dynamic that Haron didn't like. He should speak up, complain, do something, but the drell remained mute all this time. "We can always go someplace else," Haron whispered, but Kolyat just shook his head.

Jereth sauntered back, stretching a length of tape taunt between his hands. "Arms up please." Kolyat complied, raising his arms to shoulder height. Jereth worked quickly measuring Kolyat's arms and neck. Surprisingly, his face remained impassive when he worked around Kolyat's scar. He took extra care not to irritate it. Everything seemed to be going along smoothly until it came time to measure the rest of Kolyat. Haron's teeth clenched down on a growl threatening to leave him as he saw Jereth's arms go around Kolyat's chest. He coughed, hoping to cover the sound, but the look Jereth gave him told him he'd failed. He knew the lower half was coming next and he turned bodily away.

Haron hadn't engaged in any aggressive posturing in, well, ever. Shatira had been a free spirit, and she let him know right from the start that her time was for everyone. Haron had never felt he really had a claim to her. He'd hoped that might change when they moved in together, but it hadn't. Now here he was, posturing like some hormonally charged teen who just caught someone eyeing his first paramour.

"I think I can guess the rest," Jereth said, typing some information into his omnitool. He turned in a tight circle and rummaged through the racks, consulting his wrist a few times. When he finally came up for air, he had three identical suits with matching jackets in red, brown and black. "These should be a little thicker than standard Citadel wear, so you might find them more agreeable. Why don't you try them on?" he said directly to Kolyat, talking to him for the first time since they'd entered the store. He pointed Kolyat towards the dressing rooms and the drell disappeared.

Jereth stood beside Haron, both watching the dressing room door for Kolyat's return. "I picked the colors I thought complimented him best," Jereth said proudly. "I hope I didn't overstep my bounds."

"Ah, no. It's fine."

"Is it?" Jereth peeked at Haron from the corner of his eye. "I heard you earlier. You were quite menacing and I was in no position to defend myself." He laughed, taking a step closer, lowering his voice. "I take it you two are lovers, then?"

"It's complicated," Haron said honestly. "But I suppose it's something along those lines." He wasn't sure why he was telling Jereth anything. Maybe it was to confirm it for himself, to say it aloud. He waited for a smart-ass comment, readying a retort.

"What a pity." Jereth sounded genuinely disappointed and not at all condescending like Haron had expected. Before he could say anything more, Kolyat emerged.

The suit was black with grey piping. It was made in a close fitting style much like his previous clothes, but it wasn't made of a thick padded fabric, not leather. Jereth had been right about the color. It made him look stately, sophisticated, and mature. Everything about the ensemble looked great except for Kolyat's face, pinched in a grimace. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's the color," Kolyat pulled at the hem of the jacket. "It makes me look like my father."

The one and only time Haron had seen Kolyat's father, he'd been wearing a similar outfit. Haron remembered thinking similar things, though those thoughts were far more innocent. While Haron didn't exactly see the family resemblance, he could understand Kolyat's reluctance. They wouldn't be getting that one.

"How does it fit?" Jereth chimed in. He'd been appraising the outfit from a distance. Haron appreciated the effort.

"All right, I guess." Kolyat swung his arms and bent his knees, testing the fabric. "Feels pretty good."

"Why don't you try on one of the other ones, then?" Haron suggested. "And when you come out, bring everything with you." Kolyat made a face, but complied, disappearing from view. "We'll take the other two outfits," Haron whispered conspiratorially to Jereth, slipping him his credit chit and information. "Could you order some essentials and have them shipped to my address? He'll be wearing the outfit he comes back in out." Jereth nodded and headed for the register.

"What do you think?" The black suit had been smart, sleek and classy, but the brown… If black was his father's look, brown was Kolyat's. A deep brown, just a fraction darker than Haron's own carapace, with a beige border made Kolyat look good enough to eat. Haron found himself envisioning the unwrapping process. The drell stood in front of Haron for a full minute before the turian found his voice.

"H-how do you like it?" Haron stammered.

"I think it's better." He twisted, testing it out. "At least I don't look like him."

"I think you look amazing." Haron leaned closer, taking a chance and putting a hand on Kolyat's side.

Kolyat made the weird sound Haron had come to associate with distress and tugged the collar of his face. "It's just a suit, Haron…"

Jereth reappeared with a bag for Kolyat's things and a print out of the invoice. "I went ahead and placed your order, nothing too expensive or fancy. You have twenty-four hours to change anything or cancel it all together. If you want to do an exchange or a return, just come back here and we'll sort you out." He bagged Kolyat's things and sent them on their way.

Once in the corridor, Haron inspected the list. There were a few separates, some night clothes and even another pair of shoes. There was enough to keep Kolyat covered for a while. For things that had to be specially ordered, the total was surprisingly low. Shatira had spent more than this on a pair of shoes.

They piled into a taxi with their purchases and Haron steered them towards home. Kolyat had picked up his mute act, but Haron wouldn't let him crawl back into himself. He didn't want to go the whole ride in silence.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Does it matter if I'm not?" Kolyat leaned back in his seat, kicking his foot up on the dashboard.

Haron's eyes followed the long lean lines of his leg to his torso for as long as he could while keeping the car straight. "No, not really. But we'll be in and out. Shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

"Hm" was the Kolyat's only response.

"You just get in there and tell him what you know. I won't be so bad—what are you doing?" Haron heard the zipper before he dared to turn and look. Kolyat had lowered the damn thing as far down as it would go and was unbuckling himself from his seat. He crawled over the median dividing the seats and draped his arms around Haron's neck. His smooth tongue flicked out and trailed along Haron's jaw "I-I'm trying to drive here."

"I guess you'd better try harder." Kolyat's voice was using tones Haron had never heard before, but was making him tingle all the way to the soles of his feet. Kolyat ran a hand down Haron's chest until he reached his crotch. He pressed down on Haron's widening plates and the turian shifted uncomfortably. "He doesn't seem to mind."

"I need to concentrate, Kay."

"Then pull over." Kolyat sank his teeth into Haron's neck and he shuddered. "It'll be easier that way."

"What has gotten into you?" _And where did you learn to do that?_ He tried to sound annoyed, but that was hard to do when your voice was strangled in your throat.

Kolyat pressed down on Haron again and the craft dipped sharply to the right and almost out of the lane. Haron stabilized the car and put the hazard lights on. "I'm just trying to do what you won't." Kolyat's annoyance was on point. "You can't just look at me like that and then just-" Kolyat sighed, running a hand over his forehead. "Do you even like me?"

"Of course I like you."

"Do you find me attractive?"

Haron laughed and immediately bit down on it. He'd been a state of agitation since Kolyat had come out in that suit in Cleek. The present circumstance only made it worse. "Yeah, I do."

"Then why haven't we..."

Haron should have known this conversation would come up soother, rather than later. The night hadn't ended on a high-note with the interruption and Haron's sudden change of heart. "I was waiting for the right time."

"What does that mean 'the right time'? The other night-"

"That night… wasn't right. The conditions weren't good, the timing was off… " Haron could feel his Kolyat's eyes burning into him. He hastened to explain. "I didn't know what I was doing… I needed to do some research."

"Research? Like an experiment?"

Haron was going down in flames. He had such a knack for turning the romantic into the clinical that it was a wonder Shatira stuck around as long as she had. Nothing he could say would take away the previous statements, so he decided to go for full disclosure.

"I've never done this before. This." He gestured to the passenger's side of the cabin. "I didn't want to hurt you. I wanted to educate myself, to be sure everything was safe before we moved forward."

"You're serious." Kolyat sighed, sliding back into his seat. He slipped a hand into the opening in his jump suit and ran it across is stomach. He stared through the tinted glass a moment before he spoke again. "Did you find anything good?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. I guess I wouldn't be a good judge." Haron had sat at his terminal looking up positions and techniques, eventually looking up practical applications and in the end, he was no better than when he'd started. "I should have talked this over with you first. It wasn't something I should have tried to tackle on my own."

"Probably. I sort of guessed that you were new to this... But I didn't even know you were interested before. We could have talked about it and saved us both the agony.'

"If you hadn't noticed, turians are a little hesitant with things that are different. I do like you, Kolyat. I more than like you."

"Are we… dating? Together?"

"Do you want to be?" The last time Haron had asked someone that question, it was in the middle of training. She'd told him no, so he was understandably nervous.

After a few tense moments, Kolyat whispered "I think I'd like that." The statement excited Haron almost as much as the nibbling on his neck.

"Me, too. When we get in, do you want to formulate a plan of attack to tackle this problem? I'm sure there was a better way to say that."

"Definitely," Kolyat chuckled, buckling himself back in, "but yes. That sounds like a good idea."

The taxi docked and they headed home, walking shoulder to shoulder.

"So tell me, what exactly did you like about my suit?"

"It wasn't the suit I was interested in."

"I'm not sure I quite get it. I think you'll have to show me what you mean." Kolyat took Haron's hand and rubbed a thumb across his palm. The gesture, so alien to Haron was so startlingly intimate that Haron was aroused all over again.

"You're so lucky we're in public right now." Kolyat smirked, but kept quiet.

"An'ur?" They were less than a housing block away when the shrill tones he'd become so used to, called out to him.

With a lump in his throat, Haron froze where he stood. "Shatira?


	12. Like Kicking A Hornet's Nest

Kolyat had thought Shatira was pretty from the pictures on Haron's hard drive, but they didn't prepare him for the full effect she had in person. She seemed beautiful, luminously so, and worldly. Kolyat felt vulgar standing so near her. She wore one of those long flowing dresses with strategically cut out portions that were all the rage on the station, Kolyat had even noticed a few in Cleek, but this one was different, made of some sort of shiny fabric that he couldn't describe as anything but _expensive_. She swept towards Haron and every eye in the vicinity was on her. She stopped short when she finally noticed Kolyat, confusion clouding her eyes.

In that brief instant, in that short exchange, something shifted. Kolyat felt like an outsider, intruding on something he had no business seeing. "I'll go on ahead," Kolyat said and dropped Haron's hand. The turian reached for him, but he slipped away. He headed towards the building, but ducked into the doorway of a closed store. It wasn't the deftest attempt at stealth, but then again, he wasn't trying to hide. He could hear everything, even if he couldn't see their faces.

"How have you been?" Shatira asked conversationally.

Haron huffed. Kolyat pictured him crossing his arms over his chest. "Why are you here?"

"I came to see you, of course. I was back on the station and I thought I'd see how you were doing." Her voice was so saccharine it turned Kolyat's stomach. Nothing she said sounded sincere, but Kolyat had a biased opinion.

"Don't, Sha… Why are you really here?" Haron didn't sound upset like Kolyat had expected, but rather hurt and tired.

"Oh, don't be that way, An'ur."

"I don't know what way you were expecting me to be. You walk out on me and then try to drop back in, unannounced, at your leisure? I'm not exactly sure how you're expecting me to be." Kolyat leaned forward and peeked at the pair. Haron was just as he imagined, arms folded over his chest, giving a look that Kolyat had been on the receiving end of multiple times, one that meant disapproval, that the asari seemed to ignore. Shatira looked so small and frail beside him. Lo oks could certainly be deceiving. She stood close, too close as far as Kolyat was concerned.

"Alright, I deserved that," she said but didn't sound the least bit contrite. "But, it was a mistake. I'd like to talk to you about it, if you could spare some time. Have dinner with me for old time's sake?"

Haron laughed but he clearly wasn't amused. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I'll never bother you again, if you do. It's just an hour of your time. Tomorrow night at our usual place."

There was a long silence before Haron said "How about tonight. The sooner this farce is over with, the better."

Kolyat's heart sank. It definitely wasn't a "no". As ridiculous as it sounded, the idea of the two of them, along together made Kolyat uneasy. He honestly hadn't spent much of his time thinking about Shatira since he'd come into Haron's life so long after she'd left it. And she'd hurt Haron badly. Kolyat hadn't considered a threat, but rather a nagging annoyance whose presence was prevalent in almost every aspect of Haron's life. Now he felt that maybe he should have.

Haron already agreed to meet her, so Kolyat could only hope Shatira would stay true to her word and go away.

"I'll see you around eightish?" He could hear the smile in her voice and Kolyat scowled. "You can even bring your little friend."

-~xXx~-

Haron found Kolyat in his own bedroom, his things neatly put away and music turned up loud. He knocked first, but when he got no answer, he let himself in. Kolyat was facing his terminal, his back to the door. He didn't turn around to meet Haron.

"There's been a change of plans."

"I heard. You're meeting with her."

Haron didn't even think to address Kolyat's spying. He'd expected as much, and he couldn't blame him for wanting to disappear when Shatira showed up. He wanted to, too, but he didn't have the ability. The encounter left him feeling tired and in need of a shower and a stiff drink. He'd save that for after dinner.

"You can come along if you want?" It might be like kicking a hornet's nest, but Haron figured it would be good to at least give him the option.

Mirthless laughter left the drell, and it was an alien, heartbreaking sound. "No, thanks." He was probably thinking of the evening they were giving up. Haron had similar thoughts.

"I can always put her off and stay here."

"And then she'll end up waiting for you downstairs again like a psycho. You already said yes, so just go." Kolyat threw up his hands and waved Haron away.

"We never formally ended it and this would be a good time to make her take some of her stuff."

"You don't have to explain it to me," Kolyat said flatly, the content on his screen far more engrossing than Haron's face at the moment.

"When I get back, we can have a quiet evening in and-"

"I don't think tonight's good for that anymore." Haron knew he was right, but somehow, hearing it so plainly stated hurt. That seemed to be the end of the conversation. Kolyat didn't resist when he nuzzled him goodbye, so he took that as a good sign. He would make it up to Kolyat somehow.

"I'll be back soon."

Haron arrived promptly at the agreed upon time, and Shatira, as always, was late. Haron had always hated this place. It was too rich for his blood, full of people who seemed to enjoy looking gossiping about those they deemed their lessers. He never would have picked this place himself, and it served as a reminder of just how swept up in Shatira's whim he'd been. Twenty minutes after Haron had been shown a table the asari herself dropped into the seat across from him.

"You've got forty minutes left," Haron said, consulting his chrono.

Shatira looked flustered, as if she'd hustled to get here. He didn't understand why she'd changed; this wasn't a date, after all. She adjusted her dress, pulling the strap back up on her slim blue shoulders. She always did have good taste in clothes. The smile she'd plastered to her face fell. "You're really going to hold me to that?"

"Thirty-nine minutes." Haron was sure she had, in her mind, a reasonable excuse. She always did. The trams were running late, she couldn't find her left shoe. There was always a plausible excuse at the ready and it always reeked of bullshit. "Here's some clothes you left at the apartment. Your moving man wouldn't take it since it wasn't what he was sent for." He slid a bag of odds and ends they'd cleaned out of Kolyat's room to her side of the table. "There are a few heavier things that I can have shipped to you, or you can send that lovely krogan over again to pick them up."

"I could come always get them," she offered.

"I'd rather you didn't."

She frowned, putting creases in her otherwise smooth forehead. "Why are you being so cold?"

"Are you really asking me why? I've got a list if you've got the time. Down to thirty-five minutes, by the way."

"Okay, I get that you're upset with me." She twisted a napkin in her fists. "You should be, but I'm trying to make amends now."

He admitted he sounded hostile. But the audacity of her showing up after such a long time, thinking they could just pick up where they left off… Haron took a deep breath.

"Let's start again. What am I here for, Sha?"

"I wanted to tell you that I regret what I did to you, for leaving like that. I was in a bad place. I was confused. I just needed to get out. I need a change of pace."

Haron pushed the beer he'd been nursing away. "I tried contacting your coworkers. No one would tell me anything. I filed missing person's reports. I was the laughing stock at the station."

"I figured it had been a hassle for you, but I had no idea," she admitted, "but once I was able to own up that what I'd done to you was wrong. I wasn't sure how I could even begin to apologize."

"'I'm sorry' was always a good lead in for me."

"I am sorry, An'ur." Haron was surprised that the words hadn't made him happy. He waited so long to hear her say it, and now it meant nothing. He swirled the contents of his glass, unsure of how to proceed.

"Tell me one thing," he said once he'd mustered up the courage. "Why did you leave?"

"Things weren't always great between us. I-I just felt like I needed a break."

"And, of course, letting me know never factored into it." He fought to keep civil tones. "Was being with me that awful?"

"Of course it wasn't. It's not…" She reached for his hands across the table. "I want to make it up to you."

Haron pulled back. He knew coming here was a mistake. He'd hoped she'd changed, become less selfish. He was wrong. "Shatira, I can't."

"I wasn't lying when I said I came to see you. I've missed you." She looked up at him through long lashes, painted lips slightly parted. She knew how to play him. If this were 6 months before, he would have been wrapped around her little finger.

"I missed you, too, for a while. But I'm over it now, Sha. I'm over you. I can't give you what you want."

Shatira pouted and her pretty beryl skin flushed. "Why not?"

"I beat myself up for a whole year over you. That's probably just the blink of an eye for you, but for me, it was a pretty long time. But I'm now I'm done. Maybe you leaving was my fault. You clearly weren't happy if you could just disappear at the drop of a hat. Why would you even want me back?"

"Because I didn't know what I had. You know that saying. I didn't know appreciate I had until I didn't have it anymore," she pleaded. A year ago this might have worked, but things were different now. He was different.

"I've moved on." He put down a credit chit to cover his drink and stood from the table. "If that's all you had to say, I think we're done here."

"I get it." Shatira whispered, the sweet smile returning to her face. "It's the drell, isn't it? I don't know why I didn't see it before. So that's what you're into now?" Haron said nothing as she collected his credit chit from the table. "I didn't think you'd ever break out of that neat little box you put yourself in. Bravo."

She stood and put his credit chit back in his hand. "I guess I never really stood a chance. Let me cover this. It's the least I can do after making a fool of myself."

"Uh, thanks, I guess?"

"Not at all. Here's an address where you can send my things. I hope, one day, we can be friends again." And with that, she left.

It had all moved so fast. And just like that it was over. Shatira was gone. He thought he'd feel a little broken up or at least relieved that it was finally over, but all that resided within him was doubt. It all seemed too convenient, but far be it for him to look a gift elcor in the mouth. He paid for the drinks with her chit and headed for home to clean up a mess of another kind.


	13. Black Hole

_Sullen_ wasn't a word Haron used often and definitely not in relation to his own home. The term was probably more than appropriate to describe the state of affairs in his life in the past year, but now, more than ever it seemed to fit. A dank, dark presence hung over the apartment and Haron knew just why.

Kolyat was upset.

Haron wasn't sure if it was him specifically or just the circumstances, but he'd let his displeasure be known and he had _every_ right.

Right when things were getting heavy, when it looked like they were both going to get what they wanted, Haron threw all that out the window to meet with Shatira, a meeting he had not enjoyed in the least, but he had had no illusions about that.

Haron planned to talk to Kolyat when he got home to smooth things over. Instead, what he got was an empty bed, Kolyat sealed in his room loudly playing music. The bed felt so large with just Haron in it. Haron tossed and turned all night and hardly got a wink of sleep. He woke groggy and not in the mood for any of what the morning promised, but he got ready anyway, albeit slower than he had to.

In the living room, Haron found Kolyat waiting for him, decked out in the red version of the suit. Haron was hoping he'd wear the brown.

They needed to clear the air, and Haron was hoping for sooner, rather than later but Kolyat's dower face warded off any attempts at real conversation. "Hungry?" Haron managed when the silence had gone on too long.

"I'm fine." Kolyat sniffed. The skin around his tired eyes looked puffy. "Shouldn't we get going?"

Kolyat's attitude in Bailey's office wasn't much better. He answered all of Bailey's questions clearly and completely to the best of his knowledge without an ounce of sass. He was like an automaton, devoid of personality. He wasn't like Kolyat at all. Haron knew he was going to have to work to gain his forgiveness.

The news that he was essentially free didn't move him. He didn't seem happy or sad. He didn't seem anything. Once the meeting was over, he respectfully thanked Bailey for his time and left the office. Haron was close behind him when Bailey took him to the side.

"Why don't you hang back a bit? I've got some paperwork for you to sign and a few questions I wanted to ask regarding, Krios if you've got the time."

Haron wanted to take Kolyat home and work on getting him to forgive him, but from the cool responses he'd been getting, he knew it was probably better to hold off.

"Sure, sir... Give me a sec to hit the head and I'll be right back." Bailey grunted in response.

Haron walked Kolyat to the station's entrance, unsurprised that the drell's mood hadn't improved.

"I've gotta go over some things with Bailey, and it may take a while. I doubt you'd want to hang around all that time." Kolyat watched the people bustling by in front of the station, his arms crossed. "I'll see you at home?

"Yeah, I guess." Kolyat shrugged.

Haron Kolyat's hand and gave it a squeeze, startling the drell. The case was closed. They didn't have to hide anymore.

Haron leaned in close, his mandibles a breath away from Kolyat's ear. "We'll talk then."

-~xXx~-

 _Stupid Haron_ , Kolyat mused to himself, even as he grinned. He knew just what he was trying to do, but it would take more than that before he forgave the turian.

Kolyat walked back to the apartment, taking the opportunity to break in his new boots—or would they be considered Haron's? Kolyat had never intended to come rely on Haron so much, at all really. When he first started staying with Haron, eating the food he bought, he tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that at least the clothes on his back were his own, by way of his father, but that was taken from him, too.

He tried to placate his ego, telling himself that this wasn't charity, and eventually, he would pay Haron back, in full, for all he'd done. But, this last action was so over the top, it wiped out all his conviction.

Once he'd gotten over the initial shock of Shatira's beauty, he became aware of another arena in which she could best him: Kolyat was as poor as a stone.

Shatira had her own money. Haron said she was a celebrity dresser, and it sounded like it paid well. It was definitely more than what he was bringing in. She was complete, her own person. She didn't cling to Haron out of desperation. She'd been with him because she wanted to. Meanwhile, Kolyat fell deeper and deeper into Haron's debt with no foreseeable way out.

The circumstances that brought them together hinged on Kolyat being in Haron's care, but if they were to proceed, if the relationship was going to feel legitimate, they needed to be on as close to equal footing as they could get. No facet of their relationship should feel like an obligation, a duty. The end of Bailey's snitch work meant an end to feeling weird about being attracted to someone who was over him, now, Kolyat just had to work on becoming financially independent.

 _As soon as I get in_ , Kolyat told himself _, I'm going to look for a job, one that will hire someone with no experience… and no references… And a hidden, but still very real criminal record._

Kolyat had stayed up late the night before trying to figure out how to solve this problem, but he was no closer to a solution now than he was then. With every step he took towards home, his resolve wavered. By the time he reached the apartment door, he was determined to do nothing but crawl back into bed feeling sorry for himself for the rest of the afternoon.

He opened the door and was greeted by the sight of a familiar asari bent over at the waist.

"Oh, hello," Shatira smiled at him, looking up from her pile of belongings. She had gone and made herself at home, settling for a pair of sleep shorts… and one of Haron's shirts.

The very shirt Kolyat had left folded on Haron's bed. The one _he'd_ worn.

She approached Kolyat, her hand extended and her smile friendly. "You're Haron's friend from yesterday, right? We weren't properly introduced. I'm Shatira."

"I know who you are," Kolyat said as he shrank away from the proffered hand. Seeing her so comfortable here rubbed him the wrong way. The one place in the galaxy that was starting to feel safe for him and she was ruining it. "What are you doing here?"

"That's what I should be asking you. I didn't realize you were staying here, too… Well, as humans say, the more the merrier." Shatira quickly picked up on Kolyat's puzzled look and daintily covered her lips with her hand. "By the Goddess… An'ur didn't tell you, did he?" she chirped apologetically, but Kolyat knew better.. He knew what was coming, but he didn't want to believe it. He couldn't.

"I'm moving back in."

That smile that had seemed so inviting now chilled him to the core. It seemed unlikely—no, impossible—that Haron would take Shatira back, but at the same time, it filled in the blanks. Haron hadn't made a move because he was still waiting for _her_. Everything came back to her, a black hole sucking all of the light out of Kolyat's life.

His stomach folded into knots His fingers tightened into a fist against the doorjamb. He couldn't move. He was left open for her assault.

"I'm sorry... I should have let him tell you. But I guess it's better to find out sooner rather than later, hm?" She laughed, a cold, tinkling sound. "Thanks for keeping him company while I was gone." She smiled again, her intentions laid bare, and for an instant, Kolyat saw her for what she was, cold, cruel and calculating.

It was a cheap shot, but Kolyat found his mind reeling, as he struggled to reconcile the Haron she was showing him with the one that he knew. That he thought he knew.

Without another word, Kolyat turned to leave the apartment. He'd figure out the details as to where he was going once he'd come back to his senses, but right now he needed to get away from this place, away from her.

As the door slid shut Shatira called out to him, undisguised mirth in her voice.

"Was it something I said?"


	14. Alpha-Tango-Charlie

Haron spent nearly an hour in Bailey's back office, working through the mountain of paperwork generated by the mission that hadn't _quite_ gone awry. Back up, emergency medical services, beat cops to keep the public at bay; all of those services cost money. The bureaucracy of the higher ups, in its credit pinching wisdom wanted to be 100% that requisitioning said services had been an absolute necessity before they shelled out money to cover the cost. Otherwise, it would fall on this particular department.

Haron was down to his last datapad, and he sighed with relief. One last signature on his official statement and he could go home and start sorting out a different kind of mess.

Flowers and other expensive trinkets had always helped smooth things over with Shatira, but Haron doubted those sorts of gifts were to Kolyat's tastes. He tapped his stylus against the datapad as he wracked his brain.

What did he know about Kolyat? Aside from what was in his file, definitely not enough. The drell had been as loath to share as Haron was, but a few things had snuck through his guard.

Kolyat enjoyed music—but who didn't? Usually he played it too low to hear outside of his room, but last night it had been blaring, loud enough that he wouldn't hear Haron return to the apartment. At that volume, it just sounded like unintelligible noise. Haron couldn't make out the lyrics or even the genre. Getting someone music they wouldn't like could be as bad as buying clothes a size too large. Haron had found that out first hand wand wasn't willing to risk it again.

_Scratch that idea._

It was far easier to name things Kolyat _disliked_ that to pin down something he actually cared for.

He hated shopping, but Haron couldn't fault him for that. He hated it, too, and avoided it when he could. Kolyat seemed to hate clothes. He rarely got dressed when they were set to just stay in the apartment all day, not that Haron didn't appreciate the scenery. The drell even disliked video games as blasphemous as that sounded. Though, to be fair, he may have hated losing more than the games themselves. Haron had seen him storm out of the living room in a fit of anger on more than one occasion.

The only thing Haron could remember Kolyat showing any exuberance for was…

_Food._

During one of his research sessions, Haron had come across a site boasting recipes that were sure to be—in their own words— "titillating" for drell. He never much stock in those sorts of claims, but in this case, it might be worth a shot. He was already formulating a game plan.

First, he'd stop at that specialty store, the one that imported items from all over Citadel space. Then, he'd go home and amaze Kolyat with a meal prepared with his own hands. All right, maybe not _amaze_ —he'd settle for mildly impressed. After dinner, if Kolyat was up for it, a healthy portion of Haron for dessert.

He knew it was corny, and the look on his face must have been nothing short of lecherous, but he couldn't help it. Make up sex was one of Haron's favorite things about arguing with a lover. Sex on its own was great, but something about the emotions involved made it all the sweeter. Plus, if it even happened, this would be their first time.

Haron knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he was on a roll. Just thinking about trying positions that had piqued his interested and subsequently saved to his terminal at home was getting him so—

"You alright over there?" Bailey glanced up from his respective stack of datapads and raised a brow. "You're looking very 'cat who ate the canary' over there."

Haron cocked his head to the side. He was pretty sure he'd just been caught with his mind in the gutter, but it was the terminology with which he'd been caught that intrigued him. "I'm sorry? I look _what_?"

Bailey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sometimes I forget who I'm talking to. It means something like… you look satisfied with yourself, almost smug. Anything you care to share?"

"Oh… I'm down to my last form." Haron glanced down at the pad and the large white blotch where his signature should have been. He flipped the stylus over and began the tedious task of erasing. "Maybe that's it."

"Maybe," Bailey snorted with a shake of his head.

Haron slid the pad across the desk. "All done, sir." He flexed his hand, trying to work out a cramp. He'd written his name down so many times, he was sure the stylus could probably do it from memory by now.

"Those bureaucrats really don't mess around."

"Yeah, no kidding." Bailey picked up the pad and scrolled through the information idly.

"Do you need me for anything else or am I finally free to go?"

"Just a few more things," Bailey said as he rummaged through the top drawer of his desk. "Shouldn't take more than a minute." He pulled out a small leather case and flipped it onto the desk.

"What's that?"

"An identification card for the kid. He came to the station with a false one, figured it was time we made him official. After all, you can't work for C-Sec without being a registered resident." He added quickly, "I used your address. I hope that's alright."

Bailey had said it all so nonchalantly and so quick, too, like Haron was supposed to know. The turian cocked his head again, clearly confused. "Come again?"

"I gave it some thought and I got the Krios enrolled in C-Sec Academy. I had to pull some strings to get this off the ground, so he's gotta be sure he wants this. He needs to be there _every_ day _on time._ "

It was better than Haron had dared to hope. At most, he thought Bailey would put in a word with one of his civilian contacts and get Kolyat a gig as a delivery boy or something low key. This… this was security. It paid well, they even provided a healthy stipend while he was still undergoing training. It was a perfect fit for Kolyat. But it all hinged on him.

The job was there if he wanted it, but if he decided he didn't, Haron would help him find something else.

"If he decides this is what he wants to do, he's to show up bright and early at the beginning of next week, no later than oh-seven-hundred. You're on leave until then, to help him get ready." Bailey jabbed his stylus in Haron's direction, in an attempt to look menacing, but all Haron could see was the big softy he had for a C.O.

"Now hurry up and get out of here." Bailey said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I've still got work to do."

Haron rushed straight home. In the wake of this news, his idea to make Kolyat dinner seemed stale. They had to do it up big. This was worth celebrating. If it were him, he'd want to do something flashy and exciting, out of the ordinary. But Kolyat wasn't him, but a long shot. He ran over a few ideas, but ultimately, it would be up to Kolyat.

When had it come to this? Two months ago, Haron couldn't put enough distance between him and the drell's bad attitude, now he couldn't wait to see him and wipe that surly look from his face.

Haron opened his apartment door and his elation was quickly replaced with dread.

All of his posters, trinkets and datapads were in a heap on the living room floor. The wall scroll for Nekiya corridor was torn from end to end and carelessly on the top of the pile. There would be no replacing it.

For a brief moment, Haron considered that Kolyat was more upset than he let on. But Haron didn't think he had the capacity to be this cruel. Haron could only think of one person who could have such a flagrant disregard for anyone else's things.

"Welcome home," Shatira said as she rushed from the extra room—Kolyat's room—her arms thankfully empty. She went in for a hug, but Haron stepped back cautiously.

"What are you doing here?"

"What a silly question." Shatira shook her head as if correcting someone with whom she'd lost patience. "I live here."

"You haven't lived here for a year, Shatira." She didn't respond to his comment, but instead dropped down to the meson the floor.

"Do you want all of this to go into storage? Or maybe we should donate it… Oh! We could have a bonfire."

Something was very, very wrong. Haron took a few more steps back.

"Let's start with something easier." Haron took a steadying breath. "How did you get in here?"

"The super, " Shatira said conversationally. "He let me in once I told him I forgot the new code. He overrode it really quick. Nice guy." She smiled as she shifted through Haron's things.

"Where's Kolyat?" Haron had been so distracted by her sudden reappearance that he'd forgotten the reason he'd rushed home in the first place. He was about to call out to him when Shatira said "Oh, that's his name?"

She shrugged. "Damned if I know. He came by earlier, but he didn't stay long. I think my being here might have upset him."

Haron was losing his patience. Clearly he was dealing with someone who was either incredibly disturbed or self-absorbed or a smattering of both. He couldn't begin to imagine what her exchange with Kolyat must have been like with her in this state and Kolyat so… Kolyat.

"You need to leave, Shatira."

"But I just got here. I was even trying to fix up the place so it can be how it was. With _Kolyat_ gone, things can get back on track."

"You aren't welcome here," Haron growled, the last strands of his control primed to snap. "If you won't go on your own, I'll have someone _assist_ you."

Shatira laughed, a merciless, cruel sound. "Who? C-Sec? You'd never—"

"I would," Haron said coolly. "Feel free to try me, though." He opened his omnitool, talons hovering just above the interface.

"You don't mean that." Shatira's confident cackle turned into a nervous titter that punched the stale air as she moved towards him in a poor pantomime of seduction. "You can't really prefer _Kolyat_ over me." She draped her arms over his neck, a feather light touch tickling his cowl. "He's so young. He doesn't know _half_ of what I know."

"That may be true… But He's got something you don't."

"I hear _that's_ overrated… but if that's really what you're into, I could always get one-"

"Kindness," Haron bit out. A genuine concern for others. A good heart."

Shatira laughed in his face. "You can't be serious."

"When was the last time you did something for someone without expecting something back? Ever? To be fair, you probably would have helped me, if only not to inconvenience yourself.

"Be real for a minute. You never loved me. You stayed because I _adored_ you. But then that novelty wore off and you left. But I don't blame you. I was boring. I lost focus, lost who I was. That tends to happen when you're in such an unhealthy relationship."

She slapped him full on in the face with a hand swathed in a biotic field. It still probably hurt her hand more than it did his face, but he still turned his cheek.

"You're such a loser, Anur. Do you even know what you're giving up?"

"I do." And Shatira left just as quickly as she'd blustered back into his life.

Haron collapsed into his armchair, his knees finally giving out. Even when they were together, dealing with her had been an ordeal that left him feeling drained.

He opened up his omnitool and wrote himself a note. In the morning, he and the manager would have to have a talk regarding Shatira's presence. Right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to and he was going to need help.

"This is Sergeant Haron, Anur badge number zero-eight-seven-four-alpha-tango-Charlie. Patch me through to Lieutenant Nodi."


	15. C-Sec Blues

Kolyat crouched down in an alley between two housing blocks just south of Haron's building to wait and lick his wounds. It was dark and quiet, save for the dim light far overhead that blinked on-and-off. It seemed like the perfect place, though, it wasn't his first choice.

Kolyat wanted to go to the bar downstairs, but too little money and too many memories stopped him at the door. The bits and pieces of the night Haron had hauled him out by his collar and into the street, and later, his apartment played before his eyes. It wasn't particularly sentimental event on the surface, but it was the first time, in a long time, that someone had looked out for Kolyat. He'd been so drunk that night that he didn't realize it at first, but ever since the next morning, it was all he'd been able to think about.

There were plenty of other people who would have let Kolyat take that hit. It certainly would have served him right. But Haron had intervened, and kept on stepping into Kolyat's life to help, going beyond what was expected of him for work.

When did you get so soft? He chided himself. He used to not care about anyone or anything but himself and his vendetta against his father. Now here he was, too afraid of the thought of a turian to enter a bar.

Kolyat let his feet pick a direction and started walking, putting some distance between himself and the places that reeked so strongly of the C-Sec officer. He'd been walking for a full ten minutes before he realized how hungry he was. He walked until he found a vending machine lauding meals that were good to eat on-the-go. That described him at the moment, so he slipped in one of his remaining chits.

Food in hand, Kolyat kept walking. What he was looking for, he wasn't exactly sure, but he would recognize it when he found it. The crowds around him began to thin, and the station started to fall into disrepair. He figured he'd gone far enough when he found a dark, secluded corner, well away from the foot traffic and busybodies who might question him.

He wedged himself between the two decaying buildings and sat on a few fallen pieces of plaster and metal. Alone with the distant street sounds, he stared down at the meal in his hand. It was a large round piece of bread, and going by the illustration on the wrapper, it had something gooey and purple in the center. Kolyat wished he had taken the time and actually read the selections instead of just mashing the first brightly colored button that had caught his attention.

Despite the good intentions of the people at the Povax Company, he couldn't eat this.

When he was traveling, food packed with every sort of artificial ingredient known had been his sole source of "nutrition". He never had enough cash to buy a proper meal, so he survived on whatever the credit chits weren't relegated to travel.

Since he'd been living with Haron, however... He hadn't given a vending machine so much as a passing glance. Every time the C-Sec officer ate, he made sure Kolyat was taken care of as well. Food so chalked full of every artificial element had never really appealed to him, but Kolyat had become spoiled by the sort of fare Haron provided for them both.

It seemed no matter what he did Kolyat would be faced with a reminder of Haron, his kindness that Kolyat knew he didn't deserve.

Shatira was more Haron's equal. She could give him so many things Kolyat couldn't. Of course it made sense that he would want to be with her. Kolyat was nothing but a drain, a burden. What could he give, what could he do that would make Haron want him more? If Haron ever had to choose between his two admirers, it was an easy decision to make.

Kolyat sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest and dropping his forehead down to them. This was a stupid, stupid thing he was doing. He should have gone back to the station, tried to find Haron and told him exactly what had happened. It would have been easier if he'd had his extranet address or comm number, but since they were together most of the time, he'd never thought about it. Another bit of evidence—in a long list—that proved Kolyat wasn't a forward thinking individual. Another fault.

A rustling to Kolyat's right made him pop his head up to look. Two wide eyed human children were passing from the building behind him to the one across the alley through two rather large holes in the facing walls. They paused mid-step when Kolyat looked at them. The smaller of the two, what Kolyat assumed was a little girl, stepped towards him despite the hushed insistence that she do the opposite from her larger male counterpart.

"You okay?" she said her voice bright and clear. Going by their dirty clothes and how little they cared about the plaster stuck in their hair, these were street children. A duct rat, who had a million more things to worry about, was asking Kolyat about his state of well-being.

As if he needed to feel worse.

He held out the Povax pastry towards the girl. "Take it," he mumbled, eager to be free of her presence. It wasn't that her being an urchin was distasteful to him—he was only a short drop from being right there with her—but she served as a reminder that no matter how bad off he thought he was, there was someone worse and at one point or another, everyone needed help.

The little girl didn't move to accept the bread, but she did eye it wantonly. Her friend behind her had since stopped making any attempt to stop her and had started to move up.

"Take it and I'll be okay," Kolyat said, thinking she still stood there waiting for the answer to her question.

Thin fingers grasped the corner of the wrapper, slowly bringing the bread closer to her, afraid Kolyat would suddenly change his mind and snatch it back. He let his fingers relax once she had a good grip on it.

In a flash, the bread was in her hand and the two duct rats darted off towards their hole without another word, leaving Kolyat to smirk after them.

It was probably a huge risk for her to approach him like that. Not everyone was so neutral on their existence, but in the end, it had paid off. Kolyat was going to follow her lead.

There was no reason he should believe anything Shatira said. Haron was too much of a standup guy to string Kolyat along, say those things, make promises and then suddenly drop him. But Shatira had been very convincing at the time...

There was only one way to find out the truth: He would have to confront Haron and simply ask him who he really wanted to be with. Kolyat needed to hear from the turian's mouth if all of his concern and his latest promises were part of some ill-conceived notion of obligation. But for the time being, sitting in the alley was far more appealing.

The other option was to take Shatira at her word and disappear from Haron's life completely, another soul lost to the wards just like those duct rats. It was where he would be anyway if his father hadn't intervened.

Kolyat remembered the promise he'd made on his knees in another filthy alley and had so far been remiss in fulfilling.

Dusting himself off, he fished the credit chit out of his pocket. He had just enough for a few minutes on a public terminal.

-~xXx~-

Kolyat had intended on sending a brief message and be on his way, but when his father responded quickly, insisting they start a video conference, he found it difficult to say no.

A tense few moments passed with the two Krios' simply staring at each other. Details of their last meeting weighed on both their heads making them too afraid to speak first.

For Kolyat's part, he felt ashamed. He hadn't been thinking and behaved poorly, calling his father all sorts of vile things, and he just took it with quiet reserve. He'd never apologized for it, he'd been too hurt and too angry, but almost dying tended to give you a new perspective.

"You look well," Kolyat said forcing himself to speak first.

Though the words might have been hard to come by, the sentiment wasn't. The elder Krios looked relaxed and uncharacteristically content, a far cry from the man who had suffered his verbal abuse a few months ago. He was dressed in nightclothes. The only illumination was the light from the terminal he used. It wasn't the community terminal he'd sent Kolyat messages from before—messages that he had never bothered to respond to. In the background, Kolyat could hear running water.

Thane's eyes flitted down to the scar on Kolyat's throat. "Are you safe?" His face and tone remained impassive, but Kolyat knew he was concerned.

"I'm alright." Kolyat rubbed a hand over the scar self-consciously. If he'd been thinking, he would have tugged his collar up over it. "It's from an assignment for Bailey, but it's over now."

"I wish you would have told me about this before."

Ignoring the fact that Kolyat had no idea of whether or not Thane was in range of comm buoys, let alone alive, he bit down on the comeback he had brewing.

"I didn't want to worry you."

"I will always worry." Thane smiled, though his words were a bit grim. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment. "I should be on the Citadel briefly within the next two weeks or so. If you have time, I'd like to see you."

"Yeah, sure." Kolyat's throat flushed. That his father felt he had to ask so formally. "Does this mean your mission's over?"

"For the moment. We came back from the first half of it in relatively unscathed. No casualties."

"That's… impressive." Thane had made it seem like they'd never see each other again, yet here he was, all silly grins. It seemed like more than simply being glad to be alive.

"I agree. The commander has beat all odds, thus far. However, there's little hope the rest of his tasks will go by as smoothly." He was always so cryptic. Perhaps to tell more, would be to endanger Kolyat, but then why say anything at all?

A chime on Kolyat's side of the link signaled that there were just 60 seconds of airtime left.

"Alright dad, I have to go soon, but message me again when you're closer."

Thane nodded as the sound of water in the background stopped. A door opened somewhere off screen and for a brief moment, Thane's attention was focused elsewhere. He turned back to the camera, looking somber and serene, not at all gibing with the image of him Kolyat held on to.

"I will see you soon," he said, turning back to the screen and gracing Kolyat with another rare smile.

Kolyat didn't need Thane to tell him that he and the commander had gotten friendly, but he could tell. It was the only thing that explained his behavior. Searching his feelings, he discovered he was surprisingly neutral about the whole thing.

It was strange to feel this way, given what happened to his mother, but he couldn't ignore that they were both here, still alive. And that was ten years ago. She would have wanted Thane to be happy. She would want it for both of them.

The terminal shut down and thanked Kolyat for his patronage. Thane was gone and Kolyat was alone again, but he didn't want to be. He was tired of hurting and having nowhere and no one to turn to.

It was then that Kolyat decided that he wouldn't give up on Haron without a fight. Even if what Shatira said was true, he couldn't let Haron out of his life. He'd become such an integral part of it, that he couldn't think of going on without Haron, even if it was just as friends. He…

Kolyat had never felt such strong affection for someone not related to him before and still, this felt different. He didn't want to call it love, but that seemed like the only suitable explanation for why he wanted to see him happy, wanted to be with him…

He loved Haron.

Now, more than ever, he wanted to see Haron so that they might clear the air. But Shatira was probably still at the apartment, lying in wait.

He was still raw from her scathing words, and wanted to avoid a confrontation with her at all costs. He'd wait another hour and then, hopefully, Haron would be home. He'd prefer to have this talk with just the two of them, but if Shatira was still there, he'd proceed anyway.

Kolyat picked a direction and started walking. So long as he didn't linger, the chances of him getting picked up for loitering were slim. Mouse had taught him that.

He hadn't gotten 15 feet from the extranet café when a small hand clapped him on the shoulder, freezing him in place.

Kolyat turned to see C-Sec blues topped by a grave faced, but unfamiliar asari.

"You're Krios, aren't you?" Kolyat nodded slowly. He'd never met this officer before, so she must have known him by reputation. There weren't many drell on the Citadel after all. But what did she want with him?

"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

"Is this a joke?"

"No sir, but I'd advise you not to make me ask you twice."

"Can you at least tell me what this is about?" Kolyat was more annoyed than frightened. He'd had enough run ins with C-Sec since he'd come to the station to know the procedure.

The officer shrugged. "C-Sec business as far as I know. Now are we doing this the easy way or the hard way? Either works for me." The look in her eye and the curl of her snarl made Kolyat think she enjoyed the hard way just a little bit more.

Speed wasn't an asset Kolyat possessed and he doubted he could overpower her. If he didn't succeed in either option, he'd end up tazered or worse. On top of which, she was an asari and probably biotic. Mentally, Kolyat threw up his hands, annoyed with being given the run around by blue space nymphs for the second time in as many hours.

Utterly defeated, he thrust his wrists towards the asari. "Alright, officer. Take me away."


	16. Push

There had been many occasions in Kolyat's brief, but miserable life where the phrase "I've made a terrible mistake" would have been appropriate: when he'd watched Kahje disappearing through the window of a cargo ship, or the time he'd found himself face-to-face with Joram Talid in the latter's apartment. This was another of those times.

It wasn't until they were far from the bustling crowds, near the officer's vehicle that the nature of his error became apparent. The air car in question was a sleek civilian make—not one of the huge clunkers that were so familiar to him now—devoid of any telling insignias or colors. Even the unmarked cars C-Sec used were understated colors, so chosen so they would be easily forgotten. The vehicle he glared at now had the opposing aim in mind. It was an assault on the senses.

It was just _barely_ a three seater wit the trunk area nipped in to provide the minimum of comfort for anyone unfortunate enough to get stuck in the back. And the color was a bright, screaming red. It was as if someone had condensed the bleat of a lovesick elcor and slathered it all over the sides. It was form with very little function. All flash with no smoke; a waste of credits. But merely hating the vehicle on site wasn't the worst part.

Standing before this abomination of design, Kolyat realized he was actually expected to get _into_ it with Officer…

_He didn't even know her name._

He hadn't asked for her badge number or any other form of identification. He'd been so distracted by his own shit that he'd just taken her at her word. So utterly convinced that the whole galaxy was against him, he had just thrown out his wrists for her to slap the cuffs on.

As they moved closer to the open car, the cavernous, black space cow leather interior yawning at him, Kolyat could feel his chances of surviving the night slipping through his fingers.

She _could_ have been a C-Sec agent, true enough, but it was more likely that she was a friend of Shatira's sent to deal with him. He had to avoid getting into her car at all costs. But how?

"What's the hold up?" The asari was at his side then, staring peevishly up into his face. She obviously wasn't blessed with long patience and what little she had seemed all but used up. "I haven't got all cycle to play around with you."

Her stature belied her personality. Though he physically looked down on her, Kolyat had trouble looking her in the eye.

"I've got to make a stop first."

"A stop?" Wrinkles creased the asari's forehead. "Where?"

"I've got to take a piss—"

"I get it!" The questionable officer cut across. "You're a big boy. You can hold it. Now get in the car."

"I really can't," he insisted. But his flimsy protest didn't convince the asari anymore than Kolyat believed it himself. "You'll hold it or you'll be mopping up your mess with your lips." Kolyat didn't know how he knew, but he _knew_ that she meant this crazy thing she'd said and that it was more promise than threat.

"Get in the car." She grabbed one of Kolyat's arms above the wrist and tried to pull him forward, but their weight difference was great enough that he could easily hold her off, effectively stymieing her advances. Huffing in frustration, she moved behind him and started to shove at his back.

Kolyat considered himself lucky she hadn't yet resorted to excessive force. She could have easily zapped him with a stun gun, but it might knock him out, leaving her to figure out how to cart his unconscious body around. While she was distracted with trying to get him into the car, Kolyat used the time to think of up escape.

There was a trick he'd picked up during his extensive experience in being ejected from establishments. While he was being pushed out a door, or sometimes into one, he kept his body rigid. Usually the attacker could be goaded into throwing their weight behind one last surge to get him to move. That was when he made himself absurdly pliant and simply stepped out of the way. They didn't expect it and they were thrown off guard, leaving an opening for him to get away or return to his seat or whatever it was he wanted to do.

Kolyat braced himself for the next assault, but it never came.

The asari didn't make her move and when he tried to find out where she was, he found he couldn't make _his_ move either.

"Stasis," the asari said cheerily as she came back into view. The telltale glow of biotics that had just been activated cloaked her form, her right hand blazing brighter than the rest. "Like it?"

If his jaws hadn't been fused shut, Kolyat would have told just how much he "liked it."

"You really aren't very smart," she said as she stepped lightly, circling him. "Trying to pull that kind of shit on me like I'm some bartender, too stupid to properly evict drunks? You insult me, Krios." She plucked his forehead right on the pentagon of dark scales just above his eyes. Kolyat felt nothing due to the effects of Stasis.

"I'm only going to stay this once, so listen with both ears open since it seems like you're a little dull." Her face twisted into some horror from _Dark_ Goddess. Her eyes did that creepy thing where they turned completely black, devoid of irises. If he'd been capable, Kolyat would have stepped back in alarm. "If you try another stunt like that, I'll have you _begging_ me to lock you up and forget the lock code." She took a step back, her tone and face losing the sense of murderous intent.

"This doesn't have to be hard. Since we're only going to be in each other's company for a short while, let's try to keep this as pleasant as possible. Okay?" Stasis wore off just as she finished up her little proposal. Kolyat had barely enough time to readjust to being in control of his muscles before he was hit with another biotic attack.

He heard it before he felt it, something rippling through the air as it headed straight towards him. Energy splashed across his back as he was lifted off his feet and propelled through the open door. His flight was painless until his shoulder smacked soundly against the other side of the car, crammed into the laughable back seat. He was lucky it hadn't been his neck.

The asari's shadow fell over him as she readied to shut him inside.

"Maybe next time you'll be more cooperative. "

As far as Kolyat was concerned there wasn't going to _be_ a next time.

The car took off and Kolyat struggled against gravity to move into an upright position. He'd become familiar enough with regulations down at C-Sec to know that this officer had just gone against several of them.

His pity party was completely over now and he was just so _angry_ about all of this: That he had been stupid enough to follow her. That she thought she could just push him around with no repercussions. If this was truly the end for him and he'd never get to see Haron again, he wasn't going down without a fight.

He leaned back as far as he space would allow, cocked back his leg and began kicking her seat mercilessly. If they were in a proper cruiser with a half an inch of safety glass separating them, he wouldn't have been able to do this at all.

The asari glared back at him, a savage look in her eye, before directing another, minor Push over her shoulder bathing the back seat in blue light and knocking him sideways. Her control over her biotics was impressive, he'd give her that.

"I honestly can't believe you're dumber than I originally thought," she muttered, more to herself and the navigation display. "What did I _just_ say?" She sounded like an annoyed parent trying to bring her unruly offspring to heel.

He stomped on the back of her chairs on more time. "You're not a cop!"

"And you're basing this on what exactly?" He could hear the smirk in her voice and wanted nothing more than to knock it off of her face.

"What charges are you bringing me in on?"

"Vagrancy," she said plainly, as if it should have been obvious.

"Bullshit!"

She gave a throaty laugh. "Watch out, we've got a bad ass on our hands here!" She let go of the steering yoke for a moment, holding up her hands as if to ward off a threat.

"I'm not a fucking _vagrant_. I was using those terminals. I've got a receipt. Run my credit chit and you'll see it if you don't believe me."

"Oh, I do believe you. I do. But who said anything about it being a charge from today?" She must have caught sight of Kolyat's confused expression in the rear display because she went on. "We've been looking for a drell matching your description for some time. The sightings go as far back as nine months ago. They died down over the last few weeks. Then, out of no where, you show up. I figured it must be my lucky day. "

It _was_ her lucky day. When he'd first come to stay on the station, Kolyat had had no place to stay and knew no one. He'd slept where he found space, eating what he could scrounge up or buy with panhandled money. He wasn't proud of the things he'd done back then, but they'd helped him stay alive. In all the time he'd been on the station he hadn't met one other drell fitting his description or in such dire straits.

"Can I take your silence for an admission of guilt, then?" She almost sounded like she wanted to laugh at him. He wasn't sure if he should be mad at her for that or him for putting himself in this situation. He should have just kept his ass on Kahje.

"I'm not homeless. There's a place where I've been saying."

"Neat. Just pull out your residency card or let me scan your implant. That'll fix this whole mess." She was too chipper, too eager for her to really be helping him out.

 _She_ _knew_. She knew that he'd come here by questionable means and didn't have identification stating his address. He wasn't a legal resident. The station was teaming with others such as himself, but he was the one unlucky enough to get himself caught.

"I don't have it." It tore him up to concede _anything_ to this asari. She was so smug, so sure of herself. They'd known each other less than thirty minutes and she was already under his skin.

"Then let's go back to this place you've been living. I'm sure someone there can help us straighten this out?"

Kolyat didn't like that plan any more than the one that involved going down to the station. If Sharira was still holed up in the apartment, she'd just deny knowing who he was. Or worse, the two asari would dispose of him.

He sat back in his seat, huffing out a sigh. He had no recourse other than crashing the car and there was no guarantee his death would be instantaneous. "When we get to the station, I get to make a phone call, right?" If she was who she claimed and she took him down to Zakera, someone might know how to contact Haron and _then_ everything could be put to rights.

"Of course," the asari said brightly. But rather than having a calming effect, it left Kolyat more unsettled. "Or you would have a call if I was taking you to the station. We aren't going to the station, by the way."

Kolyat's heart leapt into his throat. She had been playing him all along. He'd held out hope for a second that she might be who she claimed, but that was his own stupid mistake, again. "But you said—"

"What I said," She shouted over the sounds of Kolyat's panic, "was that I need you to come with me. Not once did I say where 'with me was. _You_ assumed it was the station all on your own."

"Then where are you taking me?"

"If I told you that, that wouldn't be any fun. Goddess you aren't too bright." The vehicle dipped and veered into a lane that would carry them uptown and away from the station.

"Honestly," she said with an air of annoyance. "I can't understand what Haron sees in you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **a/n:** Apologies for the long hiatus. It has been a struggle, post ME3, to get my motivation back. But here it is. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take nearly as long as this one. So thanks for being patient to readers both old and new. And a special thanks goes to quarrelsome and myksomatosis over on dA for creating such awesome fanart and helping me get my mojo back. Their galleries are awesome.


	17. A Big Step Into The Unfamiliar

Everything needed to be burned.

Her clothes, her stupid trinkets, whatever Shatira had left behind would be sent to the incinerator and turned into smoldering ash. What couldn’t be sent down the chute, Haron would be more than happy to eject through an unguarded docking port, and barring that, he’d sell it. He needed every trace of her presence removed from his life and the sooner it was out of his sight, it would be out of his mind.

As soon as Haron was sure he was alone, he changed the security code back to the one Kolyat knew. Having his code reset like that, without his knowledge or consent, felt like a violation, an affront on his privacy that he would not stand for. That task complete, Haron sat at his terminal and typed up a message to the building’s manager, a volus named Narlun Gar, letting him know _just_ how Haron felt about it.

It was as close to an angry letter as Haron could compose. He used words like “displeasure,” “disappointment,” and “failings” as he described his feelings on having his information and his property compromised.

Usually Haron would have had this conversation in person, letting Gar feel the full effect of his umbrage, but he thought it better to stay put in case Kolyat found his way back to the apartment before Nodi found him.

_If_ he came back.

From the things she’d told Haron during their confrontation, Haron knew that her little “chat” with Kolyat had not been at all enjoyable. Just imagining the look on his face as she said those things to him was enough to rile Haron up all over again.

Gar responded quickly, unfortunately for him, with a mail peppered with apologies for the mix-up. He even went so far as to compensate Haron a month’s rent, provided they keep the matter between them. The thought of litigation hadn’t even crossed Haron’s mind, but that didn’t stop him from accepting the volus’ “generous” offer. He fired off a reply, saying that the terms were acceptable, so long as it never happened again. Once Gar assured him that it wouldn’t, Haron closed the message window. That was two steps in the right direction, but there was still one more thing he could do from the comfort of his office chair.

Haron scanned his terminal’s desktop, the screen was a clear, uninterrupted blue, free from even a background image—he was _so_ very boring. The one thing that drew the eye was the little folder of vacation photos resting just above the little symbol of a garbage can.  

Haron remembered that trip well.

Growing up on Omar Ker meant that all a tropical resort had to offer, Haron had been exposed to his whole life. There wasn’t any thrill to be found in blistering sun and chaffing sand that seemed to work its way between every single plate on his body. The resort they’d gone to was no different. It had all the heat and humidity of home, but lacked the comfort and familiarity that made Omar Ker close to bearable. Tropical locales weren’t his thing, hence his move to the Citadel. Being reminded, though distantly, of his home and his failings there wasn’t his idea of getting away from it all and Haron would never have chosen such a place for his own vacation.

But Haron knew from the very beginning that this trip wasn’t for him. It was for _her_.

Shatira posed the request in a way that Haron couldn’t refuse. She was far too young (relatively speaking) to hang around the Citadel forever. And wasn’t it time Haron took a vacation? She’d heard good things about this place, all of her friends had been to _Laguna_ and if Haron loved her, he would go with her.  Haron did love her and he felt the need to prove it. So, against his better judgment, he’d gone along for the ride, pushing what he’d assumed was his usual pessimism for the whole endeavor aside.

The trip started off rocky. The _Laguna_ was pretty standard as far as these sorts of places went, except for one major problem. The climate control for the whole hotel was on the fritz with no foreseeable completion time for repairs. To top it off, they were in the middle of a heat wave.

They tried to make the best of a bad situation by hanging out at the pool and on the beach, in an attempt to find some comfort. That was when they’d taken those pictures. Despite the sand and general discomfort, Haron had a decent time. Shatira was her usual charming self and Haron had somehow managed to keep up.  It was their second night that things took a downturn.

Haron was in the middle of his third shower of the day, in an attempt to cool off before bed when he’d heard the door to their room open and then quickly close. He didn’t think anything of it at first. Shati could have called room service, or it could have been someone coming to the wrong room. But when he stepped back into the bedroom, he found himself alone.

Later, he heard that there had been a mixer of some sort that Shatira had run off to without so much as asking if he wanted to go. If this had been an isolated incident, it mightn’t have been so bad. But it set the tone for the rest of their trip.

For the next six days, Shatira was a ghost, only letting Haron know that she had been in the room by the dampness left in the shower stall, or the cap left off of her toothpaste. She eventually showed up for the trip home and acted as if nothing had happened. She had had a wonderful time gallivanting around with the other guests, leaving her boyfriend to his own devices , with no prior warning, at a strange resort, a strange planet he’d never even wanted to be on. The only consolation had been that the air conditioning had returned on the third day.

Barely two weeks after they’d returned to the Citadel, she disappeared from his life, never to be heard from until last night.

Haron clung to the pictures like a talisman. If he kept them, and all of her things close, perhaps, eventually, she would return to him. Maybe they’d help him see what he’d done wrong, to push her away. But the answer never came to him and neither did she.

This trip had been the final period in the long history of a dysfunctional, lopsided relationship.  He’d done so many things to try to keep her happy, hoping that through her, he’d find his own joy, but he it had all been so misguided.

Haron couldn’t blame her for it. He’d been following his own misguided ideals.

The terminal’s cursor hovered over the folder a moment more before Haron pressed down and dragged the folder into the trash bin. His anger had ebbed away by this time, but it didn’t detract from his satisfaction with himself. He’d just closed the book on a chapter of his life. That was worth feeling a _little_ proud of himself.

He was about to give himself another pat on the back, his communicator chirped in his ear. He opened the connection and the caller spoke first.  “Come downstairs. Now,” and hung up before Haron could respond.

Haron made sure to lock the door as he left in case Shatira was still lurking around and hurried to the street. He didn’t often obey cryptic voices over long range communicator, but he had a feeling about this one.

He reached the ground floor and there was Nodi leaning against her mid-millennia crisis vehicle, the red standing in stark contrast to the cool blue of her skin. She appeared annoyed which was a new look for her, and the closer he got, the worse the expression got.

“Have any luck?”

“Do you know how many drell are on this station right now?” She didn’t wait for an answer before plowing forward, surprising no one. “Ten. Just ten and I was able to track all of their IDs. They logged in to places that matched their habits or the information on their declaration information. Your drell wasn’t among them. I was about to give up completely, but luckily, he wasn’t far from here.” Nodi rattled off the story of how she’d seen him leaving a net café and how he’d come along far too easily.

During her story, Haron peeked into the backseat and saw the drell in question crammed uncomfortably into one of the tiny seats.

“Why is he cuffed?”

“He was resisting an officer.” Nodi thumped on the roof of the car over Kolyat’s head.

“I didn’t ask you to arrest him… Did he commit a crime?” Nodi crossed her arms over her chest, looking beyond Haron. Haron took that for his answer. Kolyat had likely said something she didn’t like, didn’t give in to what she wanted, and she didn’t take well to people not following orders. It was something most of the asari he’d associated with had in common.

“I didn’t hurt him really… I just gave him a push.” But even as she said it, she didn’t look him in the eye, concerning herself with a spot on his building’s edifice.

 “In any case, he’s here now, relatively safe and sound.  So I’ll just take him, and we’ll call it a night?” Nodi sagged as the tension left her. She was as uninterested in getting into a fight as Haron was. He knew employing her help was risky to begin with, but in the end, it had worked out for the better, not counting a few bruises on Kolyat’s part. Nodi stood aside and let Haron open the door. Kolyat unfolded himself out of it, stretching as far as the cuffs would let him. Nodi came up and pressed her thumb against the small pad on the underside of the cuffs, and with a click, they unlatched.

Haron watched as Kolyat rubbed the small raw areas on his wrists. “I guess I owe you one, then.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Nodi waved a hand. “Friends don’t keep count.”

Haron supposed she was right. She was the closest thing he’d had to a friend in years. The knowledge left him both surprised and depressed. Still, he felt in her debt. The next time she invited him over, he might just have to accept.

 

 

Once the door had closed behind them, Haron started fussing over Kolyat checking to see if he was more injured than he could see, hungry or thirsty. Kolyat accepted a glass of water, if only to stop Haron from hovering.

“Nodi means well,” Haron said as he sat beside Kolyat on the couch. “She’s just a little eccentric.  I’m sorry if she got a bit rough with you.” Kolyat nodded in understanding as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders.

“When I got home and found you gone, I wasn’t sure what I should do. I knew it had to be Shatira’s fault, and I didn’t really have anyone else to turn to without turning it into a big scene. I guess my idea failed in that regard.”

“Well, she found me.” Kolyat said, rolling his right shoulder, sending a twinge of pain down his arm.

“She wasn’t too rough, was she?” Kolyat could hear those odd turian undertones in Haron’s question, but even in their absence, he would have sensed his concern.

“I’ve had worse.” He had, once. Before he’d hooked up with Mouse, he’d been found by a bunch of humans who thought it’d be funny to kick the sleeping drell. Luckily a few C-Sec officers had come by before things had gotten particularly bad. They let _him_ off with a warning for vagrancy and sent him on his way.  “I think my shoulder got banged up pretty bad when she threw me in the car, though.” And Kolyat tried it again, rewarded for his efforts with the same jolt of pain. 

“Where’s that terrific memory? It was a push, not a throw. Maybe you conked your head, too.” Haron stood, starting to make his way down the short hallway to retrieve the medkit.

Kolyat narrowed his eyes at Haron’s back. “You know what I meant!” Even as he called it out, his annoyed façade broke into a smile.  He was a probably angry about this whole thing, as he should be. Part of that had to do with the fact that he was right to put his trust in Haron.

If Shatira had been right, he would have just let him go… Kolyat was convinced.  At the very least, Haron hadn’t gone back to her, and for now, that was a small victory he was willing to get jubilant about.

Haron returned with the now familiar case and took out a hypo of pain meds. Kolyat gave him his arm without a fight, but didn’t look at the cool metal pressed against the crook of his elbow. Haron worked in silence, pressing a scrap of cotton against where the needle had made its entry.

“Shatira charmed the super to get in here,” Haron said without prompting. “I didn’t give her the codes. I would never do that.”

“I figured,” Kolyat said, staring down at his hands. “But I have a hard time thinking of her as _charming_.”

“Yeah, you pretty much got the full effect of her ugly side…. But when she wants to be a charmer, you’d better look out. Actually, it’d probably be best for you to stay clear of her all together.”

Kolyat huffed. There’d be no disagreement there. He’d never disliked someone so much, so instantly. If he never saw her again for the remainder of his significantly shorter life, it would be too soon.  

Haron tossed the cotton to the coffee table, but slid his hand into Kolyat’s. He sighed audibly when Kolyat didn’t flinch away, but just stared down at their linked hands.  “Shatira is self-absorbed and she’s sick. We aren’t moving in together. We aren’t back together.” Kolyat nodded, still distracted by the fact that Haron had initiated this contact. It was the first time since he’d been injured that night that Haron. He’d figured as much, but it was still good to hear the confirmation straight from the source.

 “And before I forget.” Haron reached into his breast pocket with his free hand and retrieved a thin, transparent plastic card. “Commander Bailey wanted me to give you this. “ As Kolyat accepted the card, placing his thumb against it, it lit up with a picture of him that looked like a mug shot he barely remembered having taken, and a brief listing of his information. His place of residence was already listed as Haron’s address.

Kolyat turned the card over between his fingers. “What’s this for?”

“You can’t get a job without being a legal resident. Now you are. Bailey also arranged it so there’s a seat in C-Sec Academy’s next recruitment class with your name on it if you want it. He said you’ve earned it.”

“It’s registered to your place.”  Kolyat kept his eyes on the little card, turning it between his fingers. He didn’t dare look at Haron, too afraid he wouldn’t see his own eagerness reflected in the turian’s eyes.

                “And now it’s your place, too, if you want.”

“What do _you_ want?” It passed through Kolyat’s mind that this was all under Bailey’s orders. That Haron couldn’t defy him if he wanted to. He wanted to hear it from Haron’s mouth himself with no reservations, no hesitance.

“I want you to stay with me.” Haron hand suddenly tightened on Kolyat’s hand, making the drell look up at him. What Kolyat saw in his eyes was anything but hesitant. There was a determination that he’d never seen on Haron’s face before.  “I want you to be with me.”

It was what he’d wanted to hear, but now that he had it, Kolyat hardly knew what to do with it. He held onto Haron’s hand and just looked at him, as if he’d never seen a more amazing creature, and honestly, he hadn’t. He hadn’t had anyone make him feel _wanted_ in the general sense of the term in years. Haron actually wanted him around, he cared about his safety. And he felt the same way for Haron.

He couldn’t say that he loved Jarpm, he’d never felt it for anyone who wasn’t biologically related to him and that was, of course, a feeling of a different sort, but this, this feeling bubbling up in him, making his chest ache had to be close to it. It was either that, or Kepral’s and he didn’t like the alternative.

“Will you stay with me?” Haron’s voice, soft and almost shy pulled Kolyat out of his musing and made him focus on him again, those warm eyes fixed on his face, expectantly.

Kolyat grinned, for the moment, unable to do anything else while Haron shifted anxiously at his side. “If you’ll have me.” There was really nothing more to say.

Haron’s hand was warm as it slid up Kolyat’s arm, his palm smoother than he’d remembered, moving slowly, almost timidly, still afraid of hurting Kolyat. The drell’s breath hitched in his chest. This whole relationship had been like that thus far, slow, measured. Kolyat knew that if he wanted them to progress, he would have to take the lead. And that was alright with him.

He moved quickly before Haron could change his mind and swung himself into the turian’s lap. Haron made no move to protest, instead letting his hands rest comfortably on Kolyat’s thighs, tentatively squeezing them, just trying to get comfortable with touching him that way.

With any other lover, Kolyat would have been annoyed to have waited _this long_ just to end up with someone who didn’t know how to give him what he wanted, but this was about more than just physical pleasure, though that part of it would be nice as well. He wanted to show his affection in a way that went beyond cuddling on the couch, beyond lying together in the mornings not wanting to get up, yet it was still connected to all of that. But he also knew this was a big step into the unfamiliar for Haron, so he was willing to be patient and ease him into it, not that Kolyat had very much experience himself, but in this arena, he was Haron’s senior.

For all things, good or bad, there had to be a beginning and Kolyat couldn’t think of a more appropriate start to all of this than a kiss. This whole thing had started with an impulsive kiss when Kolyat’s head hadn’t been on straight after he’d nearly passed out on Haron’s doorstep. But Kolyat was thinking correctly now, and he wouldn’t let this be a little peck on a whim. He wanted it to mean something, wanted Haron to know, so that there could be no mistaking his intentions.

Kolyat slid forward until he could feel Haron's heart thundering in his chest, his arms looping over the turian’s shoulders. He brought their foreheads together, just as Haron had done. Haron started making a sound Kolyat was at least partially familiar with, a low rumbling purr, not too different from the sound a drell would make indicating contentment. Kolyat hoped it was a gesture that crossed barriers, otherwise he’d be reading the situation all wrong.

Ignoring the oddly pleasant buzzing in his skull, Kolyat pulled a bit, pressing his lips to Haron’s barely flexible ones. It was a gesture borne of selfishness. He knew Haron couldn’t reciprocate directly, but it was something he felt he had to do. To feel his lips against Haron’s to try to pour his feelings into that one small movement, hoping that Haron could get out of it what he was putting in.

“I know I’ve never said this,” Haron murmured against Kolyat’s lips, his voice little more than a low rasp even at this distance, making Kolyat close his eyes to better appreciate it. “But I think you’re absolutely gorgeous. Did you know that?”

Kolyat almost chastised him for sweet talk, but it was more than that. He wasn’t trying to get into his pants—that was already a done deal—but it was more like, Haron felt easier about this. Something had loosened, and he was just going to let it all come out.

“I didn’t know that,” Kolyat murmured back, back up just enough to slip a hand under Haron’s shirt, the heat from the turian’s body seeped into his hand. “You’re not too bad yourself. But I wouldn’t mind hearing you talk about me a little more.” Haron had been so tightlipped about his feelings throughout all of this, Kolyat wasn’t about to miss a chance to hear anything Haron had to say to him. He _needed_ to hear it.

Haron’s hand slid up Kolyat’s thighs, towards his torso in a way that was anything but _timid_. He worked his way up to Kolyat’s collar and found the zipper that would make the jumpsuit fall open. He brushed his fingers across Kolyat’s throat, making things low in the drell tighten with anticipation. “When I first saw you, all of you, walking across the hallway when Kaean was here, after I stopped freaking out the fact that you were pretty much naked, I thought to myself that I’d never seen a more beautiful color.” As he spoke, he lowered the zipper, the material peeling away from Kolyat’s middle. He got to the bottom of the track and slipped his hands inside, running a hand across that teal skin that he seemed to be so fond of, on the flat planes of Kolyat’s stomach prompting a sound of surprise from the drell.

He was so familiar beneath Haron’s hands, but the turian didn’t quite overlook the differences. He wasn’t as rough as a turian, yet he wasn’t as smooth as an asari either, but the feeling was nowhere near off putting. He trailed his hands up towards the swell of Kolyat’s chest, which was smooth and hard, where Shatira’s had been soft. His whole body was harder than hers, covered in thick, corded muscles.

Haron reached Kolyat’s shoulders and started to peel Kolyat out of the suit. He had no idea what he would do once he got it off, but this felt like the right direction to take. He wanted to see more of him. He wanted to see _everything_.

He got the jumpsuit down to Kolyat’s waist, when the drell pulled away. At first, Haron thought Kolyat had changed his mind, but when started to shimmy out of it, he understood that he should probably do the same. While Kolyat stepped out of his clothes with a deftness Haron envied (he couldn’t see himself getting out of something that tight, that quickly) he worked his way out of his own clothes. Even with the distraction of disrobing, he stole a few glances at Kolyat as he stripped and found a little comfort in that he didn’t look _completely_ alien. At least some of their parts were similarly colored, so there was some comfort to be found in that.

He’d just gotten his pants off of his knees when Kolyat was in his lap again, his bare thighs resting against Haron’s. There was no hiding that the both of them were affected by each other’s closeness, but being nude together, for the first time really hammered it home for Haron.

This was really going to happen.

He let out a little purl of distress, not because he was truly uncomfortable, but because he wasn’t certain of where to go from here. “I don’t have any condoms…” He didn’t sound hesitant or shy, but rather, his voice held a hint of warning. In his rush to get home to tell Kolyat the good news, and the issues with Shatira that had followed, it had completely slipped his mind to get any. That seemed like the end of it, to Haron. The last thing he wanted to do was risk Kolyat having an adverse reaction to… well, him. So they’d just have to hold off until later or tomorrow if he could work up the nerve.

But Kolyat just shook his head, inching is way closer to Haron. “We’ll manage.”

Kolyat kissed him again; his arms looped behind Haron’s neck once more. It was just as ineffable as the last time and helped to distract from their combined hardness pressing into Haron’s belly. Kolyat was taking the lead and Haron was immeasurably grateful. He had no idea what he was doing, so for Kolyat to take over was—

Apparently the kiss was meant to also distract from Kolyat’s hand snaking between them and it felt like… he’d taken a hold of them both? Kolyat grinned against the turian’s mouth as realization spread across Haron’s face.

“I can stop if you want,” Kolyat purred, even as he stroked his hand along both their lengths.  

“Don’t you dare.” Haron knew he was giving him an out, but it would have been cruel for him to stop now, for both of them. Haron wasn’t even sure he could say no if he wanted to. Kolyat was pleased with Haron’s answer and rewarded him by nibbling on his neck.

Haron’s mind was a complete mess.  He couldn’t move, couldn’t think of a way to reciprocate. He was so far removed from known territory, he had no choice to but sit back and let Kolyat take control. Haron wasn’t much of a control freak, but doing nothing for his lover made him feel lazy. He could tell Kolyat was enjoying himself from the way he struggled to keep his eyes open, teeth firmly planted in his bottom lip, but Haron wanted to do _more_. 

So he did the one thing he was confident enough to do. He craned his neck, pressing his nose against Kolyat’s throat, and he set to nuzzling and licking, paying particular attention to the drell’s ribbing. Kolyat’s whole body shuddered, his tightening almost painfully on Haron’s shoulder, moaning long and loud in his ear. Haron followed suit as Kolyat squeezed them a little harder.

“Do that again,” Kolyat breathed, scooting impossibly closer, his unencumbered hand circling Haron’s hood. He ran his own tongue against the side of Haron’s neck, trying to encourage him to repeat his action.

Haron didn’t need any encouragement.

He cradled Kolyat’s head with a three fingered hand, hoping to hold him steady and he resumed his attentions, dissolving the drell to a series of whimpering gasps, his hand steady stroking them both, his hips starting to rock forward into Haron’s. If his hand wasn’t doing the job of driving Haron closer to the edge, the sounds he made would. The turian didn’t think he’d ever had just a vocal partner. Kolyat sounded like he was close, each cry pulling one from Haron’s own throat as he was pulled along with him. He couldn’t have held on if he wanted to.

And just to be sure that he would be fully undone, Kolyat bit down Haron as he reached his own peak, his body shaking as he came, forcing himself to keep moving until Haron finished right behind him. It was only through years of practice that Haron was able to keep his teeth to himself, instead clamping his jaws together as he growled against Kolyat’s neck.

The living room was filled with the sounds of their pants as they both waited for their hearts to calm. Haron had never felt so sated, like he’d just gotten something he had no idea he’d needed and it sounded like Kolyat was feeling the same.

His purr had become constant and soft as Haron stroked his back. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, but kept his arm securely wrapped around Haron. They were both in dire need of a shower but that could wait.

They had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~A/N: Finally done! But this isn’t the last you’ll hear from Haron and Kolyat. I intend on continuing their story in another story in the near future that will loosely follow the events of the ME3 storyline with a few of my own changes, and combine this story with that of Russell Shepard in Resta Con Me.~~
> 
> ~~I hope you’ll stick around then, but regardless, thanks for reading this far!~~
> 
> ~~-M~~  
>  Continuing in Shrines


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